


Total Anarchy

by sobefarrington



Series: Total Anarchy [1]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-06
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 18:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 36,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/956312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobefarrington/pseuds/sobefarrington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set right after the Ireland Season. <br/>Written between February and April of 2011.</p><p>The club's existence is at stake after a member is murdered.</p><p>Few original characters.<br/>One major character death at start.<br/>All cast represented.<br/>M/M, F/M.<br/>Very minor Supernatural crossover (if you know the series you'll see it, but I feel like it's masked well.)</p><p>Rated Teen, with slight hints of M chapters.</p><p>Please forgive any spelling or grammar errors. <br/>I had to copy/paste the entire work from two and a half year old Facebook notes.</p><p>I hope you enjoy it.</p><p>36,531 words.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. The Fall Of a Leader

**Author's Note:**

> Set right after the Ireland Season.   
> Written between February and April of 2011.
> 
> The club's existence is at stake after a member is murdered.
> 
> Few original characters.  
> One major character death at start.  
> All cast represented.  
> M/M, F/M.  
> Very minor Supernatural crossover (if you know the series you'll see it, but I feel like it's masked well.)
> 
> Rated Teen, with slight hints of M chapters.
> 
> Please forgive any spelling or grammar errors.   
> I had to copy/paste the entire work from two and a half year old Facebook notes.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> 36,531 words.

Sons Of Anarchy  
Chapter One  
The Fall of A Leader

The ride in was going smoothly, though the boys didn’t expect anything less.

Traffic was minimal down the highway midday, with most common folk at work or indoors. The heat wave California was experiencing kept most everyone out of the sun if they didn’t need to be there.

But the boys needed to be.

It was only a few short days ago that they had made their way back into the country from Ireland. And Jax was finally starting to find relief in knowing Abel was in the safety of his mother’s arms.

Jax’s heart however, had seen better days.

He was still grieving for the loss of Kip, his baby. Half Sack, he would painfully refer to him as when he was around his boys, his brothers. The Club.

Because the club didn’t know. Couldn’t know. What they’d say, think.

Jax would be a dead man. But what did that matter now.

Who cares what they thought. He’s dead. It’s over.

The pain in his chest heaved, cutting the air from his lungs and making his entire body feel heavier than it was.  
No matter what he told himself he still didn’t believe it.

The boys rode silently, pulling off the main drag as they headed towards Charming, the traffic that occasionally drifted by disappeared all together.

The boys spread out, giving each other and their Harley’s room to breathe as they sped towards home.

Where Kip wouldn’t be waiting.

Clay and Tig led the boys, taking the front reigns of the pack.

Bobby wasn’t too far behind them, keeping pace with the crew in front.

Chibs, Juice and Happy occupied the spots closest Bobby, leaving Opie and Jax to trail the crowd.  
Jax at the tail end of it.

The skies were clear and the coast seemed the same way. They’d not encountered any trouble on their ride thus far, and seeing as they were so close to home it didn’t seem likely they would now.

Needless to say they were surprised when red exploded from the back of Clay’s head, spraying Tig, Bobby and Juice with a fine mist of AB negative before his bike swerved and crashed into the ground, skidding out the rest of its momentum against the pavement as his lifeless body tumbled half way with it.

Tig responded with pure adrenaline, coming to a stop within inches of his lifelong friend, not even aware yet of the speckles of his friend that covered his face and body.

Bobby was feet behind him, aware of what was covering him, but focused on the scene.

Happy was hot on Tig’s heels, moving past the slower Bobby.

Juice had stopped his bike in the middle of the road, fifty feet from the crew that was gathering around Clay. What was left of Clay, because Juice was completely aware of who he was covered in.

Jax sped past Juice, the air swishing around his friend and sending him that much further into shock.  
Opie slowed to a spot at the spot Clay first went down, and started scanning the area.

“CLAY!” Jax hollered at the top of his lungs, pushing past Bobby and joining Tig to tend to his step-father.  
What was left of his step-father.

Jax dropped to his knees, grabbing at Clay’s shoulder to turn him onto his back and get a better look at the man who was, in many ways, the only father he'd really known.

It was a small bullet, they would learn later, that blew out the bulk of Clay’s face, leaving nothing but a black, bloody hole the size of his combined features. Bone and brain matter were visible, along with part of the asphalt his head rested on. Clay was gone. Forever. And there was no changing that.

Tig pulled at Jax until he had a good hold on him, cradling the still fragile man in his arms as he cried, body wracked with sobs as the rest of the men gathered around the body of their fallen leader. Their friend.


	2. The Worst News

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 2  
The Worst News

The cops arrived on the scene quickly.

And so did the FBI.

Agents Page and Plant made quick work of the scene, letting most of the boys go after a few moments.

Bobby and Happy agreed to remain at the scene, with Clay, while the others made sure Jax got home safe before heading back to the club.

Opie and Chibs escorted Jax back to his house. Jax insisted he’d be fine to ride home himself, but there really wasn’t any way Opie was going to leave his side.

Tig offered to break it to Gemma. Something Jax was grateful for. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the idea. Clay is dead, just didn’t sound right. He wasn’t the only one who thought that.

Gemma was at home, in the house she shared with Clay, preparing a big dinner for the club. She’d only had a few hours to prepare, but she’d had help.

Jo, Opie’s old lady, had been at the house most of the day. She’d offered a hand to Gemma when she wasn’t fussing over Abel. She’d missed her Godson terribly and was more than thrilled to have a few days helping take care of him.

Neither of the ladies turned their heads when they heard a morotcycle roll into the driveway.

Tig killed the engine and kicked the stand down, staring at the house. He’d offered taking the axe from Jax to save the boy a bit of heartache, but he wasn’t entirely sure how to break the news to his best friend’s wife that she was a widow.

Again.

It just didn’t seem fair.

Tig had always been fond of Gemma. Her warm smile, kind heart, gentle ways. You know, when she wasn’t being a hard ass bitch. But she was different with the club than she was with outsiders. She was tough and hard, but sweet and caring. Tig saw both sides of her and he’d liked them both.

This was going to be tougher than he thought.

Going for bold he approached the front door and turned the handle.  
Locked.

Tig used his spare key, one of three on the ring he carried, and let himself in. Noises from the kitchen urged him onward, wanting to get it all over with as soon as possible.

Both girls were in the kitchen, Jo helping Gemma prepare the feast. Abel was nowhere to be found, but the baby monitor on the counter suggested he was still napping. Jo turned her head first, smiling when their eyes met.

“Heya Tig.”

“Uh, Hey Jo. Hi Gemma.”

Tig’s words came out slow, thought out, and kind of distracted. Gemma turned briefly to catch a glimpse of her friend before going back to chopping vegetables.

“Hey Tig. Boys back at the club?”

Tig stared out the kitchen window.

“Most of them, uh, yeah. Can I have a word with you Gem.”

Jo had been around long enough to know what that meant. She made it easy on them.

“I’ll go check on Abel.”

Gemma turned to stare the truth out of Tig while Jo quickly shifted out of the room, trying desperate to mind her own business.

“What happened Tig.”

“Why don’t we sit down Gemma.” Tig tried, moving towards the table.

“I’m fine here. Tell me.”

Gemma was leaning on the counter, her back against it and her palms still on it. She was giving him attitude already. He didn’t know if he could go through with it.

“There was, uh, incident on the drive back.”

Tig was rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact as he approached Gemma, getting prepared was what he was sure would come.

“Is anyone hurt? Is Jax alright?”

“Jax is okay. He’s home.”

“Then what the fuck are your getting at Tig. Christ, you’re gonna give me a heart atta-“

“It’s Clay Gem. Clay’s dead.”

She wasn’t sure when her ears stopped working, but it was sometime between the words Clay and dead. She also wasn’t sure when she came to, but it was the sun had long since set, and she was on the floor being rocked by Tig, tears still rushing from her closed eyes. Dinner long since forgotten.

It was the second time that day Tig had held a Teller in his arms. Only this time he’d cried with them.


	3. Rinsing off The Juice

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 3  
Rinsing Off The Juice

 

Juice had told the guys he was fine and was going to head home, to his tiny apartment just on the border of town, and clean up before meeting the guys at the club. He’d refused Chibs offer of going along with him for the ride. There was some pride to be had. He wasn’t going to break down in front of the crew.

He’d made it home in record time, trying his damndest not to think about the brain matter he was splattered in.  
Juice burst through the door, his hands still shaking as he fumbled with the locks from the inside.

“J babe, that you?” he heard called from the living room, gunshots popping in rapid succession from the television.

Diana, Juice’s other half, was probably trying to beat her old score in Black Ops.

“Yeah.” His voice floundered as he dropped his keys to the floor.

Juice bent to pick them up, his grip slipping again as he heard the sound cut from the television in the other room.  
He attempted again for the keys and heard the patter of footsteps towards him.

“Baby... what happened.”

Juice stood up and looked his girl in the eye. He blinked as the sweat he was drenched in started to run with the blood on his face into his eye.

He couldn’t answer her. He just shook.

Diana let Juice into the bathroom, sitting him down gently on the john while starting the shower. He hung his head, fidgeting with his fingers, refusing to make eye contact again. Juice always swore Diana could read his every thought just from looking in his eyes.

She helped him undress, setting his vest in the empty sink and the rest of his clothes in a pile next to the door. She’d have to clean the vest, but the rest of it was getting burned as soon as possible.

Once he was rid of this clothing and the water was warm enough, Diana guided Juice into the shower.  
Her heart ran from her chest to her throat as the love of her life trembled in silence, letting her lead him around like a lost animal.

The warm water hit his skin and ran off in beads, taking most of the blood and bits with it. Diana climbed in behind him, still dressed, and unwrapped a new bar of Ivory soap. They’d probably need the whole bar.

The pressure from the shower head fizzled in and out before kicking into high gear again. Juice ducked his head under and let the gentle glide of water mix with Diana’s touch, bringing him to the reality of the situation.

He broke into heaving sobs, his spirit breaking to the core of it.

The water rinsed the soap from his back a Diana wrapped her arms around him, laying a hand on his heart. She held him tight as he shook with tears.

She’d find out what happened soon enough.  
As soon as Juice was better.


	4. Band of Brothers

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 4  
Band of Brothers

It took Tig more than an hour to convince Gemma to rise from the kitchen floor. A hour of alternating between gut-wrenchingly painful sobs and fits of unbelievable anger at which times she’d bang her balled up hands on Tig’s chest, all the while Tig rubbed her back consolingly.

Jo had stayed in Abel’s room for a good ten minutes before sneaking outside to make a phone call to her old man. Opie’s cell phone rang and rang, but he didn’t answer. Jo sighed, closed her prepaid, and lit a smoke.

Opie heard his phone going off in the back round, but was otherwise preoccupied. Jax, if it was possible, was a bigger mess than Gemma.

Since arriving home Jax had punched four holes in the wall, two in the living room, one in the hallway and one in the bathroom. He’d cried, hollered, begged and cursed, one emotion leading into the next. All until he was in a heap on the bathroom floor, exhausted from the event.

Opie stood by and watched his best friend, his best brother, break down. He let Jax burn through the pain, the anger and the grief, until he’d come to terms with what had happened, and – hopefully – what that now meant.

Jax spoke a few words, barely audible, telling Opie he was going for a shower. Jax knew his friend would be worried about him, so he started stripping the layers off with the door open, no intention of closing it.  
Opie moved from the hallway to the kitchen, pulling his phone from the counter.

Jo had called. She no doubt was at Gemma’s and worried. Opie would call her back, but first he needed to speak with his father.

Piney was still at the shop, trying to run things from his deteriorating state. The Prospects respected the man and the club enough to do as he dictated, but there was always an air about the place when Piney was left in charge.

He spoke to his son from the office, in private where no one else could overhear Piney receive the shocking bad news.

Opie waiting silently on the other end while Piney gathered himself. He decided before his son said a word that he was just going to close up shop for the day, head to where-ever he was needed. Opie suggested sending the Prospects to the coroner’s to trade off with Happy and Bobby. Piney agreed it was a good idea, and then told his son he’d meet him at the club in an hour.

The Prospects made their way to the coroner’s office and traded watch with Happy and Bobby, who had mixed feelings about leaving their deceased leader. The coroner was a friend of the club, and had assured the boys nothing would happen, but was also smart enough to allow them access to the place if they wanted someone to stand guard.

One of the prospects passed a message along to Bobby from Piney, about meeting at the club and the boys thanked their wannabes as they left.

Bobby headed straight for the club, while Happy felt the need to look in on Juice.

Happy arrived at Juice’s apartment across town in what felt like moments.

Diana had let him in when the doorbell rang, Juice sitting catatonic on the couch, watching decade old Law & Order episodes while Diana scrubbed his Sons vest in the bathroom.

Happy sat on the couch, keeping some distance between him and his brother. Both hurting, both unable to say.  
Diana finished with his vest as the episode neared its finish line. Happy instantly rose, telling Juice he’d meet him outside when he was ready. He exchanged a concerned smile with Diana and headed for the door.

Juice rose slowly from his seat, his face changing from the hurt, frightened boy who’d entered through the door to the man he’d need to be when he got to the club.

He smiled at Diana as she helped him shrug back into his colors.

Juice turned, smiled, and gave her a gentle peck on the lips. Their foreheads touched before he spoke, ever so softly, still fighting back the tears.  
“Thanks baby.”

 

The boys were gathered around the table, one important seat left empty. Jax had insisted on being there, though Opie had suggested he see his mother. He would, they all would, but for now he needed the support of his brothers. The knowledge that they were going to stand behind him in the fight for justice, revenge, and answers that lay ahead.

The group sat in silence for the first few minutes. It had always been Clay that called the meetings, headed the discussion. Without him, without their leader, it fell on Jax... deferred to their Vice President.

Who was currently slumping in his seat, staring at the edge of the table.  
Tig waited a moment and considered stirring the young man before he scanned the room. Most of his brothers were in a similar state of comatose. He followed his instincts and took over.

Tig cleared his throat.

“Um, So... where do we start?”

“Where is there to start?” Piney asked back dryly, not looking at anyone in particular.

“Prospects are at the – with him as we speak. I gave them orders to stay put. That someone would come by in the morning.” Bobby relayed the information he had.

“Alright. Good. Anyone else?”

Tig looked around at the table of misfits. Opie seemed the only one whose demeanour hadn’t changed. He still sat with his typical lean, looking out the window pensively. He felt Tig’s stare start to burrow through him and he spoke.

“I think I saw something.”

Suddenly, as if a fire had broken out, each member of the crew sat us and turned towards Opie with concentration.

“In the building just ahead of where we were, off to the right. There was some movement on the top floor. Couldn’t make out what it was. About fifteen minutes later a car pulled out from the street around back.”

Opie still hadn’t make eye contact with anyone. He wasn’t speaking to anyone specifically. He was simply speaking.

He went back into his distant mode, where no one knew if Opie was still in the room or not. They’d waited a second, before Tig felt the need to hurry it all along.

“Ope?” he called out to his buddy, calling his attention back to the story and the one thing he was wrestling with.

“It was an early seventies Eldorado. Red.”

Jax instantly jumped up for the door and Opie, in anticipation of his brother’s reaction, beat him there and grabbed Jackson by his shoulders, holding him back.

“Come ON OPE! WE GOTTA MAKE’EM PAY FOR THIS!”

Jax was overflowing with rage, a fire lighting in him at the possibility of a lead. One he was so certain of he’d risk innocent lives to seek revenge on it.

But Opie’s hands were gentle and loving. He badly wanted to hug his brother, force him to face the pain, the anguish he’d been hiding for some time. Opie would never do that. Not in front of his other brothers. Not with everyone watching.

His voice was deep and demanding, telling Jax in a way he’d understand. He wasn’t going to leave the room he was in while he was in that state of mind. Opie reassured him, soothed and calmed him.

“Jackson... Brother... bigger picture okay? You need to look at it in the long run. I know it’s hard. I know. But think about it...”

Opie was silent as he gave a struggling Jax a moment to let it settle in.

“Think about it brother.”

Jax pushed the last of his energy out at Opie who stood valiantly at the doorway until his friend had given up.

Jackson’s shoulders slumped as he calmed, Opie’s cool energy flowing into him. He didn’t know how Opie could do that, turn him from a temperamental hot head to a cool and collected member of the team, but he could. He’d always could.

Opie gave Jackson a smile and a pat on the shoulder as the man turned back to his seat. He hated when Opie was right.

“We can’t just sit on this.” Jax stated the obvious.

“No, we’re not going to, but Opie’s right, we need to be smart about this. The feds are already on the case and we can’t afford any more trouble with them right now.”

Everyone nodded in regards to Tig’s remark. They were already crawling their way out of the crapper. No sense getting flushed now.

“I’ll volunteer first watch.” Happy offered, thinking keeping an eye on them was the best plan.

“Alright. Who else wants to keep an eye with Hap-“

“I will.”

Jackson volunteered his services far too quick for anyone’s liking, but no one was going to say so.

Opie turned to Jax and spoke, giving him a look of indifference.

“I will.” He over ruled his smaller friend. “You should be with Gemma.”

Jax turned into himself, crossing his arms and slouching a little more. Being treated like a child because his step-father had his brains blown out on a city street only hours ago wasn’t going to help him get over it.

And neither was sitting at home with his mother.


	5. Best Served Cold

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 5  
Best Served Cold

The boys left the room in the most staggered, disorderly fashion. Without Clay to lead them, there was no organization.

Tig was the last to get up, watching the boys leave the room. Jax sat in his chair to the left of the empty seat.

There wasn’t anything to say, though it didn’t stop Tig from hunting his brain for words. He paused at the doorway, wanting to turn to his friend, his brother. But he couldn’t face him. Tig hung his head low and left the boy to his pain.

Jax sat in silence. He thought about losing Clay. He recalled losing his father, and the pain that still sat under the surface in regards to Kip’s death. Then he thought of Abel. Maybe a little time with his mother and son wasn’t a bad thing.

Happy and Opie travelled the side streets out to the edge of town and a bar called The Snake Pit, the known hangout of The Vipers.

The Vipers were a fairly recent addition to the town of Charming, having arrived during the Sons time in the old country. They were casual acquaintances of the Mayans and had worked with Darby once or twice. Their connections in town were fresh and unstable. They had no real friends yet, and the attack on the club was most likely their initiation into something bigger and better.

The red Eldorado was parked in an alleyway alongside the building as Happy had suspected.

The boys rested with their bikes around a side street, where they were blocked from view of anyone attempting to exit while still being able to keep a close eye on the front door. Luckily, they weren’t there more than ten minutes before it swung open. Three guys walked out.

“That’s him.” Opie stated, still staring. “Getting into the back.”

Happy and Opie started their bikes up as the Eldorado roared to life. The three men inside didn’t waste any time turning the stereo up and peeling out of the vehicle’s resting place.

They followed the men in the red Eldorado, always staying a few cars behind, never getting close enough to be noticed, though at one point Opie wondered if they were bright enough to even consider the possibility that they were noticed at the scene.

They dropped the man in the passenger seat off first, at a small house in the suburbs. Toys, bikes and a tricycle were scattered across the front lawn as if the wind had blown them to rest. Opie’s experience tripping on bicycles left to rust made it apparent to him that these weren’t out there just for show. Happy made note of the address as they headed to the next destination.

The second man, the one Opie saw fleeing the scene of a murder earlier in the day, jumped out of the car in front of a rundown apartment building a few blocks away. He gave his buddy a parting handshake, bumping fists after, before heading inside. Opie never too his eyes off him.

“You follow the car.”

Happy glanced back at Opie, determination his strongest feature at present.

Happy gave a small nod towards the building.

“You good?” he asked heavily.

“Yep.”

Happy didn’t need more than that. He leaned on the throttle and sped away, catching up to the Eldorado in no time, leaving Opie to take care of business.

Happy couldn’t be certain Opie’s intention was to kill the man. To exact revenge for the murder of their President, but he knew in his heart of hearts that look on Opie’s face was one of made decision. The second he’d seen the man leave the building that morning he knew his was running on borrowed time. An eye for an eye. A life for a life. Opie removed his vest and places it over the handles of his bike.

He killed the engine on his hog and approached the building from the side as the man entered through the double front doors. Opie rushed to catch up, wrapping his fingers around the door just before it closed completely, scratching his knuckles on the frame as it skidded to a stop short of taking them all off his hand.

“Sorry dude.” The Viper muttered, holding the second door open for the man, thinking he’d not noticed him and nearly closed the door on his fingers.

Opie smiled, playing the hand he picked out.

“Oh, it’s all good man. Happens.”

Opie walked just behind the Viper as they both approached the elevator near the back of the building. Ope let him reach it first, watching him press the ‘up’ arrow as Opie stepped into place next to him.

He noticed that his new buddy was about a foot smaller than him, and a bit scrawny for his size. He was covered in tattoos Opie couldn’t quite make out, but he was clean shaven and wore an Eldorado red bandana around his bald head, half covering the snake he has tattooed behind his ear.

They waited in mutual silence as the doors opened and let them enter. Snake Head letting his buddy in first.

Opie accepted and pushed the button for the top floor. Eight. Bandana Man pushed the six and the doors chimed shut.

Nameless turned to Opie, hazarding a glance at the stranger. Opie smiled kindly, though his eyes refused to light.

He thought about all the ways he could end him as they pinged past the first floor.

Snap his neck?

Third floor.

Suffocate him?

Fourth floor.

Bash his brains in?

Fifth floor.

Opie reached behind him to the small of his back and pulled an old revolver from his pants as they reached their first destination.

The doors pinged open as Opie dropped his arm to his side, pistol at the ready.

The nameless man took half a step forward and Opie raised his arm, blowing the back of his head clean off with one shot. Just as Clay had, he’d never seen it coming.

The former Viper dropped to the ground, half in the elevator, half in the hallway. The door trying to close and pinging open every time they came into contact with the dead man.

Opie stepped over him and out into the hallway, content with the fact that there had been no witnesses. He looked down at the man and the mess he’d left him in, giving no reaction as he went.

He marched down the hall to a door marked ‘Stairs’ and pushed through it, making his decent through the building, back to his bike and the boys at the club.


	6. Mother of All

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 6  
Mother of All

Gemma was sitting in the rocking chair with Abel on the back porch when Jax arrive at her home. The one she used to share with Clay.

He walked in the front door without announcing himself, as he was accustomed to, and headed for the kitchen. He found Jo there, still chopping vegetables for the salad.

Jo turned at the feel of another person in the room and dropped the knife on the counter.

“Jax.” She whispered to herself, almost as if he weren’t real.

“Hi Jo.”

He still appeared sullen, dragging himself into the room. Jo approached him slowly and wrapped her thin arms around her brother, hugging him tight to her.

Jax hugged back, leaning on the small woman more than he usually did. He was exhausted and feeling it now, letting himself acknowledge the pain again. He let the tears fall, but didn’t give in to the sobs looming behind them.  
“Where’s Gemma?” his voice cracked a touch as Jo rubbed his back.

“Out back. With Abel. She’ll be happy to see you Jax.”

Jax began to pull away and Jo let him go, watching the entire time as he made his way through the kitchen and the patio doors to the back yard.

Jo didn’t make an effort to watch as mother and son had their reunion. She was good at minding her own business when it didn’t involve her. She’d spoken to Opie not long after Tig had left for the clubhouse. Gemma still wanted to have the dinner, now more so than ever. She wanted all her boys together. All the boys she had left.

Jo finished the salad and made room for the giant bowl in the fridge. The potatoes were on the stove; peeled, chopped and boiling to within an inch of their life. Soon they would meet their end at the hand of a masher. The oven had long since been occupied with the turkey Gemma had picked out at the market the day before. A giant fucking bird that took the two of them to prepare and move into the gas range.

With everything in the kitchen going smoothly, and the entire Teller family in the back yard, Jo decided to sit for a minute. She let her mind drift into the atmosphere. She wondered what Opie was up to.

Currently, Opie was headed away from the club, in the direction Happy had left in. He was half way back into Charming when his phone had rang. Happy, calling him to check something out.

Opie arrived at the destination Happy told him he’d be at in no time, pulling up alongside his friend.

“Over there.” Was all he said.

Opie looked towards a park bench five hundred yards away. It was a shaded area, plenty of trees to keep themselves hidden, but Happy had found a clear line of sight.

Their red Eldorado was meeting with another Black Bike. Only this one wore a Mayans vest and a moustache.

“Alvarez.” Opie stated.

“Alvarez.”

The two men spoke for some minutes before shaking hands, Alvarez patting the Eldorado Man on the back as they walked off together, one to his car and the other to his bike and awaiting buddies.

The bikes pulled out first, taking a quick turn onto the highway and back towards their homes. The Eldorado left last, going in the opposite direction.

The boys continued along with the red car until it pulled into a duplex a mile away from the picnic table meeting area.

He parked the car in the carport and entered the house through the side door. Hollers to the lady of the house resonated from across the street.

Happy pulled his phone out, flipped it up and snapped two photos of the place before returning the device to his pocket and sitting back onto his bike.

Opie and Happy pulled away from the small, stucco building, leaving the man who resided there to enjoy his remaining few hours.

 

Piney was the last to arrive at Gemma’s, rolling in just before five thirty. Everyone else having long since made their way to their second home.

Jo had picked up Opie’s kids from school and brought then straight to Gemma’s. They were both quite happy to spend the evening playing with their cousin Abel. Diana had arrived shortly after Gemma called her to make sure she was still coming. Even Happy’s off again-on again girlfriend managed to swing by to show her support.

Not that Gemma would have any of it. She insisted to everyone that entered through her door that she was fine, and that this night, and this dinner was a celebration of the life that Clay had lived, at one point telling Chibs that is he told her he was sorry one more goddamn time she was going to lock his balls in a vice until they fell off.

Diana turned the radio on, classic rock wafting through the air with the scent of turkey, stuffing and potatoes.  
Dinner was served at six-thirty, and the table filled up quickly. All those in attendance had loosened up with a few beers and were chatting friendly to one another, laughing at the odd joke, talking over the conversation next to them. An abundance of stories filled the room as the club and their families enjoyed each other’s company.

Gemma smiled as she sat quietly to herself, picking at the dinner she’d dished out to herself. She was alive when her family surrounded her, but she couldn’t delude herself.

A big part of her life was missing now, as the empty seat screamed at her.

Tig didn’t miss the glances she stole to it through the night.


	7. Temma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is M-rated.

********** THIS IS YOUR WARNING. THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M FOR... well, if you read it you'll find out. ********* 

 

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 7  
Tig & Gemma

The crowd didn’t clear out until just after midnight, when Tig finally dismissed Bobby and saved him the hours of clean up that lay ahead.

Jax had taken up residence in one of the spare bedrooms on the second floor while Abel snoozed in the nursery Gemma insisted he have in her home.

Tig and Gemma were the only two still vertical.

Gemma had the dishwasher running while she started on some of the smaller items by hand. Glasses, a few plates. Things that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher with the pots and pans that were currently going through the wash cycle.

A hint of guilt pinched her heart at the thoughts swimming around the pool of wine in her head. She turned to the living room, and Tig bent over the arm of a chair, attempting to reach a beer bottle.

Not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind before, but with the loss of her husband being so recent, it seemed less right that when he was alive. She turned back to the sink full of dishes as Tig began to rise.

He managed to reach the bottle, adding it to his collection of three as he placed it next to the others on the coffee table. He looked to Gemma, standing in solitude at the counter. He stilled pined for her, the idea of them, as much as he had since their awkward encounter ages ago. But, with Clay out of the picture it seemed like an actual possibility, even if he felt like more of an asshole now than he did before. He watched her place another clean glass next to the others on the counter before picking up the rest of the empties from around the room.

Another half an hour and the house was coming back into shape. The empties were gathered in the kitchen and Tig was drying the last of the dishes, putting them away as he went.

He took a stack of tumblers and reached for the top shelf, sliding them into place in a cupboard on Gemma’s right as she exhaled, audibly. He closed the cupboard door and slid around behind her, Gemma grabbing his hand as he reached for another glass.

She dropped the wet cloth into the sink as she laced her fingers in with his, pushing up behind him and grinding her ass into his crotch. She stole his right hand and placed it on her thigh, rubbing the back of it as she leaned her whole body into him with a sigh.

Tig instinctively breathed her in, the familiar scent washing over him as his groin tightened his jeans. The hand Gemma placed on her thigh rose on its own, gliding over her skin tight jeans and up under her shirt, drifting over her stomach as Tig gently kissed her neck.

Gemma leaned into him more, wiggling her ass to urge him on as she moaned.  
Tig’s hand dropped as he quickly pulled away from her.

“Tigger baby—“ she turned to face him as he pulled at his unshaven face.

“Don’t, Gemma. Don’t Tigger me.” he spoke accusingly, waving a hand at her.

She approached him and he countered her with a step back. One step forward, one step back, until Tig was again the wall in the hallway. Trapped between drywall and Gemma.

She pressed right up against him as Tig pushed himself up on his toes, trying to get away. Gemma slid her arm between them and palmed his very present erection. Tig rolled his eyes in delight.

“Oh God. No! No, Gemma.”

She leaned impossibly close, whispering with lust and hot breath into his ear.

“Come on Tigger, you obviously wanna. Fuck me like you did the last time.”

Tig struggled to keep his cool, grabbing Gemma buy the shoulders and pushing her away, taking her by the wrists to keep her from touching him.

“You’ve had a lot to drink.” He told the both of them.

The tone of her voice didn’t change.

“Take me, hard and dirty Tigger.”

“You don’t want this Gemma. Not really.”

She smiled, the slosh in her head whirling her around a little.

“Like hell I don’t.” Her tone waivered.

“You’re just missing him.”

Gemma freed a hand from Tig’s grasp and slapped him across the face. Hard.

Tig shook the sting from his body and refocused on the lady he was gripping.

Tears began to fill Gemma’s bloodshot eyes, brimming over and spilling down her cheeks. Her lip quivered like it had earlier when he held her in his arms. When things were a little simpler.

She hiccupped a sob away as Tig pulled her back into his arms.

“Ah Gem, come’ere.”

He embraced her as if the last five minutes hadn’t existed as she broke down into sobs. The night’s cries more painful for Tig to endure than the days.

Tig scooped her up as she was about to collapse onto him and carried her into her bed, tucking her in under the covers. She continued to weep as Tig swept the hair from her forehead before lighting placing a kiss there.

He was about to say goodnight and leave when Gemma grabbed at his arm.

“Don’t.” She cried out in a voice so small it didn’t suit her. “Don’t leave me Tig.”

His heart broke. The strongest woman he knew was shattered. He’d been shot and in less pain than he was now.  
Without a word he climbed atop the sheet, Gemma shifting over to make some room. Tig slouched on the bed and Gemma cuddled into him, laying her head on his stomach. He wrapped an arm around her and rubbed her back in gentle circles until the sobs left her and she drifted off into a restful sleep.


	8. Free To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jax/Kip feels

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 8  
Free To Be

The sun warmed his skin, almost as much as his company did.  
The day had been a long and lazy one, laying out in the sun midday at a very secluded park outside of town.  
The blanket underneath then was rough and scratchy, but for what little contact it made with his skin he could ignore it. Bliss. It was the rolling waves of bliss he was revelling in.

Jax lay in silent quandary on his back, with Kip tucked closing into him, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and left arm. Jax rested his chin atop his dirty blond head, gently kissing the top of it randomly.

They watched the clouds drift at their own pace through the clear blue sky, the sun never getting too intense that they couldn’t watch. The minutes drifted with them, turning slowly into hours with neither of them noticing until the sun began to dip and the air whirled with a chill around them.

Kip snuggled closer, searching for the warmth that Jax seemed to posses. He slithered an arm across his stomach and under his leather vest, still over his Sons sweater.

Still his skin tingled. A gust of love rushed over him, rivalling the breeze that seemed to challenge it. Jax wrapped his arms tighter around Kip, needing to feel him. He snuck a hand in the gap between his shirt and his jeans, fingers slithering to grab his ass in his impossibly loose-fitting pants.

It was then that Jax realized the stress Kip was under.

He’d noticed his lover was under constant worry about being found out, and what that would mean for Jax. Kip knew his other half needed the club like he needed oxygen and he couldn’t grasp the thought of what they would do to him if they found out what the two of them had been up to.

And it’d been so fucking hard to keep it hidden, especially when they were all in the same room together.  
Because Kip was alive when Jax was around, even when they were separated by fifty feet and eight other large, leather-clad men. He’d thought about life without Jax once before, thinking it’d be easier for the club’s Vice President if he’d just disappeared, never to return again. Kip would rather be dead than live a life without Jackson Teller.

And Jax felt the same way. To lose Kip, to be without his baby, was an unreachable thought. If anything happened to him, if he ever had to give him up... he knew he couldn’t. And seeing Kip under that much strain, so much so that he was losing what little weight he had... Jax swallowed his heart as he spoke.

“We could just up and leave baby. Start a new life in Utah or some shit. You, me and Abel? Leave all this hiding it behind us.”

Jax’s breath was warm and soft against Kip’s skin. He smiled at the words and craned his neck to look Jax in the eye when he replied.

“Utah?”

Jax smiled a huff, turning his head away from Kip in the way he usually did. That was one of the things he loved about Jackson, the ‘turn and sigh’.

“You know what I mean.”

Yeah, Kip knew what he meant. He wasn’t going to lie, it did sound like a nice idea, but he doubted either of them could survive without the club. Without the brotherly bond, the family atmosphere. Though it meant more to Jax than it did to the prospect at this point, he couldn’t take that away from him.

“We talked about this before Jackson. You know why we can’t.”

Jax became a little upset, but not enough to really show how Kip dismissing the idea outright again broke his heart. His voice did become sterner, demanding when he spoke instead of the soft, loving whisper.

“Fuck them. Fuck their ideas and their bullshit. I don’t need them, I need you.”

Kip pulled himself away from Jax reluctantly so he could position himself face to face with the man who’d stolen his heart.

He ran a hand over Jackson’s face, the stubble pulling and flicking his palm as it grazed his cheek. Jax closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, a tear escaping the closed lids at the knowledge of what Kip would say next.

He leaned down and their lips met. It was a chaste kiss, but it lingered longer than either normally would have let it, neither of them wanting to pull away.

Kip eventually did, and avoided the chase Jax gave him, resting his forehead on Jackson’s and turning his head slightly away.

“We’d be gone a week and you’d be heartsick about leaving the club, about not telling the boys, about leaving Gemma. You don’t say it, but I know it would break you to leave all this behind. And you know it would too, no matter how badly you want us to be free to be together. It just isn’t set for us. And I’m okay with that Jackson, really.”

Jax didn’t open his eyes. He couldn’t look at Kip while he poured his heart out, sacrificing a freedom he knew he wanted for what Jax needed.

He knew Kip was lying. He knew he wasn’t okay with it, but he knew he’d live with it, as he had been, it slowly eating away at his soul.

Jax pulled Kip into him, holding him so tight it must have bordered painful. He took his baby’s face in his hands and kissed his hard, leaving all the unspoken emotion between their lips and tongues.

Jax wrapped a leg around the two of them, sliding a hand up the back of Kip’s shirt and squeezing him closer. Kip didn’t resist him as Jax continued to explore his body, his other hand trailing back down to the space between his boxers and his jeans.

Kip smiled against his lips, pulling away enough to speak.

“I’m sorry Jackson.”

The whisper was barely audible as Kip started to fade away in his arms.

Jax’s heart beat against his chest, trying to escape and latch onto the man who’d become translucent.

“What? No, baby. Kip? KIP!!”

Jax grabbed hold tight any part of him he could get his hands on, digging his finger tips into Kip until he was clawing at this own palms, Kip and the memory of him gone with the wind.

 

Jackson bolted upright in his bed, hands bunched into fists and tangled in the sheets, one arm outstretched to the empty spot next to him. The perpetually empty spot next to him.

The tears Jax had been crying were real, as he ran a hand over his wet face. He laid back down into the sweat-damp sheets, the scent of Kip trolling his memories, making his sob that much harder as he tried to go back to sleep.


	9. Juice Loses

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 9  
Juice Loses

The boys gathered around the pool table in the clubhouse, Happy and Juice in the middle of a game that seemed to have Juice in the lead. Opie and Tig were waiting to play the winner, having a cigarette nonchalantly against the wall, their conversation jumping from sports, to Jax, to the ride that saw Opie murder a man in cold blood the day before.

“Hey Hap, did you show Tig the picture?”

Happy leaned his cue against the table as he dug his phone from his back pocket. Juice joined the huddle of three as Happy thumbed through his phone, finding the photo of the house in question.

He handed the device to his friend, Tig sticking it close to his nose so his old eyes could see clearly. It was a house.

“One of the vipers lives there. He was driving when they left the bar.” Happy told.

Tig passed the phone off to Juice, not making a noise or a face at the information, simply absorbing it as his friend took the cell from his hands.

Juice took a look at the photo, staring a moment at the building and surroundings before handing it back to Happy, who closed it and put it back in his pocket.

“I say we move on it as soon as possible. Get one of the prospects on the house right away.”

Tig spoke while beckoning one of the prospects from behind the bar over to them. Which one it was he didn’t know, he hadn’t bothered to really learn their names yet.

“We need you to sit on a house.”

Happy rattled off the address, the prospect getting ready to head out as Tig spoke again.

“The guy that lives there. If he leaves, you call us and follow him. Don’t leave his ass. Understand?”

The prospect nodded, waiting a second to see if there were more instructions and left, hopping on his bike and heading for the address burned into his brain.

Happy picked up his cue again, and Juice followed, his turn up at bat. He fussed with the cue in his hands before shooting, clipping the white ball in the corner and scratching his shot.

Happy laughed.

“Finally.”

Happy set up his turn, sinking two balls in one shot.

Juice took a step back from the table, giving Happy the room he needed to move about, giving him an ass-whooping. He cleared the table with a smile.

Tig gave Juice a pat on the back as the younger man handed over his cue stick.

“Maybe next time brother.”


	10. Trading Off

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 10  
Trading Off

The day fell into night and Phil, the prospect, was still sitting on his bike around the corner from the house in question. He’d been there for almost nine hours, just watching the place, the car never moving from the drive and the residents never leaving the comfort of their home. Phil barely heard the motor of the bike approaching him from behind.

Juice had come to relieve him of his duty, telling him so much as he parked behind the big man’s bike.

Phil was pleasantly surprised that he didn’t have to suffer the overnight shift. He wasn’t sure what Juice had done to draw the short straw, but he didn’t really care either. He wasn’t going to stick around long enough to ask.

He filled his replacement in on the nothing that had happened in his wake before he took off, heading back to his home.

Juice was glad to see him go, and happy nothing had happened to cause Phil any grief. He’d had an idea of what the Vipers were capable of. He didn’t want to see any of his club brothers go through that...


	11. The Jump

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 11  
The Jump

Phil had arrived at the club the next day, just after lunch, ready to take his shift under the Jeep a local needed work done to.

Piney was confused when he saw the man walk in, having been told he was on watch duty, but figured someone had traded off with him that morning and no one had bothered to tell him. Piney was starting to get used to not knowing anything.

It was about two hours later, just before four, that he realized something was up.

The boys had gathered in the meeting room, Jax sitting wearily in the seat that used to belong to Clay. No one said anything about it. They had all expected him to take the chair, but a few were surprised he did it so soon.

Opie was the only one who wasn’t.  
He knew his best friend. He knew him more than they knew.

Jax called the group to order, Juice missing from their line up.

“Anybody seen the Juice?” Jax asked the group.

“I tried calling him an hour ago. Got no answer. I figured he was tied up at home.”

Opie half laughed, letting a smile hid in his beard.  
He knew Juice’s likes more than they knew.

“Phil is back at the shop. Could Juice be watching the Viper house?”

“Phil, that’s it.” Tig clued in, recalling the prospect’s name.

“He didn’t say he was.”

Piney was already searching his phone for Juice’s home number, hitting the send button and putting the phone to his ear as it rang.

Diana answered it on the third chime.

“J?” she asked into the receiver.

“Oh, no Diana. It’s Piney. He’s not there with you ?”

Diana’s face fell with her heart. It was starting to make sense now.

“Fuckers. You fucking FUCKERS. You... YOU. Piney, you lost him. You let my baby be taken!!”

“What are you going on abou-“

Piney looked at his phone, closing it and putting it on the table.

“She hung up on me. But something’s up.”

Happy tried Juice’s cell phone again, getting the answering machine immediately.

The entire club went out to the garage like a pack of wolves, hunting down Phil.

They pulled him out from under the Jeep to question him, get the rundown.

“He came by just after eleven. Said he was taking over for the night and that I should go home and get some sleep. He’d call me when he wanted to switch back. I checked my phone three times. He hasn’t called.”

Phil seemed to genuinely believe Juice was still just sitting on the side of the road watching the home in question.

“And you don’t think that’s kinda odd, that Juice would want to stand guard on something like this? For more than twelve hours?”

Tired squealed as a ten year old blue Pontiac Sunfire sped into the parkinglot, lady at the wheel in a raging fury.

“Oh shit.”

Opie stepped out of the circle that made up the crew and got out of Diana’s way. Jo and Diana were pretty good friends. He knew her temper more than they knew.

Diana flew out of the car and directly at Jax, wrapping her fingers around the lapels of his vest and shaking him violently.

“IT’S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT. HE BUSTS HIS ASS FOR YOU GUYS, COMES HOME COVERED IN BLOOD, A BROKEN FUCKING MESS ALL FOR YOU FUCKERS AND WHAT HAPPENS!!! THIS!!! THIS FUCKING HAPPENS!! THEY’VE GOT HIM!!!! THEY’VE FUCKING GOT HIM AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT. HE’S PROBABLY FUCKING DEAD—he’s proba- probably –“

All the screaming stopped and the hands that were trying to pry her off of Jax were now holding her up. A panic attack was setting in. The thought of Juice not existing anymore was not going to consumer her. She wouldn’t let it.

Jax stepped in, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and guiding her away from the group of men who were trying to protect him from her.

“Let’s go inside, get a drink and you can tell me what’s going on.”

 

Diana slammed back three double whiskeys before she could even think of how to start the story.

“Juice didn’t come home last night.” She stared off into the empty glass.

“Phil said Juice showed up last night to relieve him on a watch.”

“I don’t know where the fuck he goes, he doesn’t tell me.”

Jax was quiet at the revelation. He’d thought Juice told Diana everything.

“I got a call from his cousin Tico at about four this morning. Only spoken to him once before. Told me Juice had said he really cared for me.”

“He does.”

Everything Jax said came out as a gentle statement, not wanting to aggravate Diana more than she already was.

“I fucking know.”

Diana filled her glass on her own, slamming back another before continuing.

“I thought Juice was just over there, crashing the night. But the way he said it. The way he fucking said it. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Like he was telling me because Juice never would again. Intu-fucking-ition man. I shoulda known.”

Another drink. Jax would have to keep an eye on her.

“Shoulda known what Diana?”

“Tico’s been hanging out with some shady guys. Jay said he didn’t like the company he was starting to keep. All this around the time those fucking Vipers rolled into town.”

Jax started piecing things together, one and one and one becoming three far too easily. He recalled the address Happy had mentioned to him, where he said they’d sent Phil the morning before.

“Does 198 Fuego Lane ring a bell.”

“That’s Tico’s house.”


	12. Battle Royale

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 12  
Battle Royale

Tig drove the van, but it wasn’t fast enough for Diana, though he didn’t know it. She sat still and silently in the passenger seat for the entire drive. Phil sitting behind her, giving Tig directions.

The boys pulled up behind the van around the corner where Phil had left Juice the night before. His bike was gone. There was no sign of him.

Diana looked out towards the home in question. Tig didn’t have to ask.

“That’s Tico’s house. The red car’s his.”

Tig ran a hand down his face, scraping away at the beard that was growing in. He cursed under his breath and wondered to himself if Juice had turned on the club and warned his cousin.

“Alright... alright.”

Tig opened the door and huddled with his brothers behind the van. The sound of another door opening and closing passed through the air. The boys didn’t think anything of it until Diana was in the huddle.

The conversation cut short as all the guys looked at her.

“Diana, whaddaya—“

“I hope you don’t think you’re going in there without me.”

She shot Jax a look that frightened him. She was dead serious.

“We need you to be safe.”

“You need someone who knows the layout of the house.”

Diana was right. The knowledge she had would give them the upper hand.

“I’ll watch her.” Opie offered, absorbing the stare he received for his remark.

How could Jax argue with that.

“Alright Diana, whaddare we walking into?”

Diana explained the layout of the house, which was pretty much what it looked like. Kitchen in the back right through the side door, dining room past that and living room in the front.

There was one bedroom on the main floor, in the back right corner of the home, and two in the basement.

“The one bedroom downstairs was converted into an office. Coupla computers, filing cabinets. Last I knew he was running drugs. Likes to have his business organized. He’ll probably be in there. He loves his office.”

“What about the girl?”

“What about the girl?”

Diana obviously didn’t care if she survived the ambush. If there was animosity there she didn’t let on. Opie was gonna have his hands full.

They set up a plan of attack. Chibs was going to lead the charge through the front door, with Bobby and the prospect following closely behind. Jax, Tig and Opie would take the side door, enter through the kitchen. Opie and Diana would find the woman and get her out while Jax, Tig and the others cornered the man in the basement.

It didn’t take more than two minutes for things to go awry. And, as Jax had anticipated, it was because of Diana.

They burst their way through their respective doors, finding the kitchen empty, but a girl in the living room.

She was in her late twenties, like Diana, and had her long dark hair tie up with a clip. She had been reading a book in her yoga pants and tank top when the door broke open.

“Holy Fuck TICO!!”

Diana burst past all three guys as she headed for the living room with a jolt.

“Lesley!” Diana called her, a growl ever present in her tone.

Lesley rose from her seat with forceful determination, tossing the book her in hand to the couch.

“Diana.”

If it were possible, Tico’s girl seemed even angrier than Diana was.

“Oh shit.”

Tico had made his way upstairs without anyone noticing, Chibs, the Prospect and Bobby pouncing on him, Jax lending a hand dragging him out as Diana flew at the girl, lunging at her.

She grabbed Lesley by her hair, slamming her face first into the far wall. Lesley replied with an elbow to the ribs, a sharp jab. This wasn’t either of their first fight.

Opie got ready to jump in and break it up as they started taking and giving hooks and jabs to the face, but he was held back with a hand on his right arm, and Tig waving a hand at him.

“Now, what’s the rush...” Tig flicked his tongue at his bottom lip. “Let’s just give them a minute.”

Lesley took Diana’s arm and cranked it behind her back, hooking a foot in front of the other girl and knocking her down, pinning her to the ground.

Tig and Opie watched as Lesley slammed the Diana’s face into the cheap thin carpeting repeatedly, cursing something in Spanish as she went on.

Diana nearly dislocated her shoulder reaching behind her, grabbing her opponent by the hair and yanking her down. Diana rolled them so she was on top, pinning the other girl down, alternating her fists to her face. Left, right. Left, right. More Spanish.

“What are they saying?” Opie asked Tig.

Tig smiled at the scene, waving Opie off, never looking away.

“Later man. Later.”

Diana wrapped her hands around Lesley’s throat, gripping it tightly in her digits. She continued on with the muttering, Opie understanding words like ‘slut’, ‘bitch’, and ‘dead’'.

“What the hell.”

Jax returned from the basement then, just as Opie thought it was time to break it up.

Jax pulled Diana off the other girl, Diana fighting him every inch of the way. Opie quickly stepped in to grab Lesley, both boys with their arms hooked around the girls. Both girls fighting to get away and back to the riot. Tig standing in the middle of the room, clapping.

“WHORE!!” Diana called out as Jax dragged her from the room.

“AND HE FUCKING LOVED IT!!” Lesley screamed back, kicking Opie in the shins before he threw her down on the couch.

Opie pulled the bit of rope he had hooked to his belt and tossed it to Tig.

“If she’s trouble, tie her up.”

Opie left the room, heading for the basement where the others were holding their intended prisoner. Tig smiled. Sometimes he liked babysitting duty.

He fell onto the couch next to her as Lesley ignored his presence.

“You’re not gonna be hard to handle are ya.” He didn’t question.

“Don’t fucking speak to me.” Lesley tried to order him, though she doubted he was the listening type.

“Well, that’s no wa-“

Lesley turned, slamming the base of her palm up his nose, breaking it and causing it to bleed. She smiled.  
The again, sometimes babysitting was a nightmare.


	13. Tico The Rat

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 13  
Tico The Rat

Chibs and Bobby managed to gag and tie Tico Ortiz to his office swivel chair. The boys had taken to standing in a circle and pushing him around in Jax’s absence.

“For fuck sakes man.”

The fun came to an end as Jax tore the gag out of Tico’s mouth so he could answer the questions that were coming to him.

“Where’s Juice?”

Tico’s grin was only evil.

“Man, how am I supposed to know. He ain’t here, he could be anywhere.”

Jax shrugged, replaced the gag against a struggled Tico and pushed the chair towards Bobby, who spun the man in vicious circles before shoving him across to Chibs, who did the same. Five more shoves and Jax stopped the hilarity.

Opie pulled a .45 out from his jacket and aimed with a steady hand at Tico’s forehead. Jax spoke again.

“Where’s Juice?”

“Cuz got what’s coming to him. Couldn’t do nothin’ ‘bout it.”

Diana, who’d been instructed by Jax not to move from the wall behind them, burst through the line, grabbing the gun from Opie’s hand and shooting Tico in the knee. Tico screamed in pain against the gag, Jax turning to Opie as the crew watched Diana helplessly.

“See, this is why we don’t have women in the club.”

Diana buried the barrel in his groin, the pain in his knee a distant memory at the thought of how bad he could be hurt.

“WHERE THE FUCK IS JUICE?”

“Mexico! Boys took him to Mexico. T.J.”

“WHICH BOYS?”

“Juan, Jose, Gabriel. They were here when Jean showed up last night! Hauled him off as soon as they saw his SamCro colors!”

“HOW CAN YOU BE SURE HE’S IN TJ!!!”

“They have connections there. I swear D, he’s in Tijuana. Please don’t blow my balls off!!”

"Fuckin' pussy."

Diana stepped back out of his face, removing the gun from his sack and handing it back to Opie.

She started out of the room, turning to the boys when she saw they weren’t following her.

“Well, are we going on a road trip or what.”


	14. Getting There

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 14  
Getting There

Jax didn’t say aloud, but he was impressed with the quick work Diana made of Tico. He’s known her for some time, and never thought she could be that cold and ruthless. Then again, Jax didn’t know much of the bond Diana had with Juice. He assumed, if she were willing to kill for him, that it was an intense one.

He thought they’d have a hard time getting over the border and into Mexico. To be honest, Jax was downright worried about it.

But Opie didn’t think it’d be a problem.

He placed a call to Jo, not only to ask her to pick the kids up from school, but also to call in a favour.

Jo and Opie had been together for almost six months, and in that time he’d learned little of her past. The one thing he did know, however, was that she had connections.

He knew it wasn’t exactly a legit connection she had to government officials, but she knew a way around things, having cleared Opie of a felony possessions charge a few months back via these mystery friends of hers. And once again, Jo had come through for her man.

They reached the border, Diana driving them all in the van just to be on the safe side, and were waved through without so much as a second glance. Jax just shook his head.

Women, he thought to himself. He had to hand it to them. They were making their job a fuck of a lot easier today.

The arrived at the building Tico had eventually described to the boys, following the directions he’d given. Low and behold the giant dick wasn’t lying to them.

A rundown, abandon jail served as headquarters for the Vipers. They boys chuckled to themselves as they pulled up across the street. It didn’t surprise them that they were comfortable in that setting.

If Tico’s story held up, they’d be keeping Juice in a cell on the second floor, and if it was night when they got there, they’d be lucky if anyone at all was guarding him.

The sun had set three hours ago.

The boys began hatching a plan to break Juice out when Diana caught Jax’ attention and smiled at him.

“I take it you’re coming too?”

“Damn straight.”

None of the men made any sign of objection, except Tig, who rolled his eyes and whispered a ‘Man’. Just for that, Jax put him on Team Diana.

Happy, Tig and Diana were going to head to the second floor, find Juice and get him back to the van. Jax, Opie and Chibs were going to hunt down the Vipers and get a little information. Bobby and the prospect remained with Tico and The Lady for insurance purposes.

Opie, who probably was the strongest one of the bunch, jimmied a back door open with a crowbar and let the brigade charge through, one team up the flight of stairs to the right, the other veering left through a door and down a damp, dark hallway.

Happy led the charge up the stairs, Diana following him and Tig trailing the two. They made it to the second floor, opening the unlocked door with simple ease. They obviously weren’t expecting company.

A single light led the way, down the corridor or holding cells to the second to last one on the right. Diana pushed past Happy, leaving the two men in her wake as she rushed to save the only thing that mattered to her.

 

Jax, Opie and Chibs ran through the cold, damp hallway, peeking in windows as they passed by doors. They searched for a sign of life, a signal that someone was there. That someone had been there recently. But there was nothing.

The last door at the end of the hallway led to another set of stairs, this flight heading downward. Jax turned the handle.

Unlocked.

The boys opened it and started down the steps, coming upon another door marked with gang signs and graffiti snakes.

When they opened it however, they were a bit shocked.

One, single, solitary man sat at a table with his back turned to them, watching a portable television, wearing earphones and eating a bag of chips.

The boys turned to each other, exchanging looks. The three of them crept towards the man, guns drawn and pointing down. Opie stepped from between Jax and Chibs, putting his gun away and getting close enough to the man to smell him. He stunk of stale sweat and alcohol.

Opie pulled the wooden chair out from under the man as Jax and Chibs aimed for a kill shot.

Startled, the stranger fumbled to the ground, and then again trying to get up, knocking over his folding table in the process.

The earphones fell off his head, the television hit the floor with a crash, breaking the glass screen before it started to smoke. Beer, Pepsi and chips flew across the room. The man started to scurry, begging for his life in broken English.

“Please no mister shoot me. No mister shoot me please.”

Chibs laughed out loud, Jax snickered and Opie gave a half smile while they put down their weapons.

“The Vipers.” Jax started. “Where are they?”

The man continued to shake, pushing himself further and further away across the floor. Jax shook his head back at the boys, both of whom put their guns away completely and put their hands up, showing the man they meant no harm, while backing away. Jax asked again.

“Are you a Viper?”

After a moment it was apparent the old man cowering on the floor didn’t understand.

Jax pointed to a snake painted on the wall and asked again, getting a response on the third try.

“Serpientes? Yo no soy un serpientes.”

Jax’ Spanish was so that he understood that much. He wasn’t a Viper.

“Su nombre amigo.”

“Mi nombre es Sergio.”

“Sergio.”

“Si.”

“Mi nombre Jackson.” He introduced himself, pointing to his brothers behind him. “Opie, Chibs.”

“Si. SAMCRO.”

Jax gave him a stare.

“You know us.” He asked, pointing to himself.

“Su amigo está encerrado arriba. Sigo a salvo hasta que aparezca. Usted apareció soy libre para salir.”

The man burst past the group, the ground slipping under his feet as he neared Opie. He picked himself up off the ground and rushed up the stairs and out the door.

“I think he was a homeless man, paid to babysit.” Chibs thought, using his broken Spanish to translate what he could.

“Then Juice has gotta be here somewhere. Let’s go see if they’ve found him yet.”


	15. Truth

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 15  
Truth and Consequences

“Shid, you shuddin be hurr bayb.”

Juice’s mumbling only made her hurt more, keeping her from concentrating on the lock she was trying to pick.

He was holed up in a jail cell like Tico had said, tied to a cheap wooden chair that looked like it belonged with three others around someone’s dining room table. His hands were behind his back and his ankles were strapped to the legs.

Juice was bloodied up pretty bad too, one eye puffy and swollen shut. His nose had stopped bleeding some time ago, but he was still stained from it. His top and bottom lips were split from the repeated blows to the face he’d endured.

All of his muscles hurt. The parts of his skin that weren’t purple from bruising or having his circulation cut off from the ropes were red from where the switch had whipped him.

“Hush J. Dammit.”

Diana unstuck the paper clip from the keyhole and tried again, her hands shaking still she managed to get it unlocked on the second try, rushing to kneel at Juice’s feet so she could see his face up close.

She held back the tears, not hearing when Tig muttered a ‘Holy Fuck’ behind her, because it was bad. It was really bad.

“I’m alight.” He tried.

“Of course you are baby.”

Tig and Happy wasted no time freeing Juice from the chair, his pained body slumping forward into Diana’s awaiting arms.

“I’ll get him to the van D.” Tig offered, seeing the mental strain she was under, pulling to keep her composure.

Tig scooped Juice up, cradling him out of the cell close to his chest as he mumbled to him. Happy helped Diana from the floor, wrapping a friendly arm around her as the tears began to flow.

 

Tig, Juice, Happy and Diana met up with Jax, Opie and Chibs in the stairwell, the boys relieved to see Juice was alive and in traveling shape. They held off on the questions until they were in the van.

 

Opie drove home. There was something about that man. Nerves of steel. After everything they’d been through he was the only one who wasn’t rattled.

Chibs sat shotgun for a change, Juice cuddling into Diana on the floor of the van, him in between her legs with his head on her chest as she wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers through his short Mohawk. She hummed to him his lullaby as the boys did their best not to spy on their very public private moment.

Jax couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable Juice looked. In all the years he’d known the man, going back to a time before they were men, he’d never seen him so broken down, so sick in spirit. Jax thought it probably hurt him more that Diana had been there, had seen him like that, in that state.

He’d need her now to take care of him more than ever, unfortunately for Jax, there were still club matters to take care of.

“Juice.” Jax stated, getting his friend’s attention.

Juice opened his eyes and adjusted his head to look his buddy, his new club president, in the eye. He didn’t speak a reply.

“Can you run through the story man? What the hell happened?”

Juice was genuinely upset, feeling like he let the club down.

“Tico’s not a bad guy man, just misguided.”

“C’mon Juice.”

Juice sat up a bit, pulling away from Diana slightly, letting her know that this conversation was to be forgotten as soon as they were home safe.

“He’s my family. I thought I could talk him out of the trouble he was getting into, you know, lead him down a better path. Convince him to leave the Vipers. But I didn’t know he had his boys over. They jumped me before I could get two sentences out. Told me they were making their job too easy. They gagged me and smuggled me over the border, to TJ. Kinda beat me around a little before leaving. I passed out at some point, I don’t know how long I was even there for.”  
He sunk back into Diana and she embraced him, his explanation of the events being what they were.

Jax pondered over the information, wondering if Juice was telling the whole truth. He picked his questions carefully.

“Do you know who it was that took you?”

“Gabriel, Jose ..... there was another guy but I don’t know his name.”

“They were Vipers?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they say anything to you?” Happy chimed in.

“Nothing but insults to me directly. They spoke to each other a lot.”

“Wha’d they say?”

Juice shrugged.

“That’s the thing... it was mostly in Italian.”


	16. And

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 16  
And

Jax ran a hand over his face, tugging at the skin. Happy uttered a ‘shit’ to himself, Chibs and Tig sighing in disbelief while Opie’s steady hand steered them towards home.

The Cacuzza Family had been a small thorn in the side of the club since its formation in 1967.  
John Teller and Piermont Winston had been paratroopers in Vietnam with Giovanni Cacuzza. They’d battled through training together and had become fast friends prior to their first jump, in what would later become the Battle of Biscuit Field. Jax knew next to nothing about the battle, or the war. John never spoke about it, or about what went down between John, Piney and Giovanni. Jax knew they had been friends, and that the falling out was bad enough for them to exclude Giovanni and his brothers from the club before it was anything more than an idea. Shortly after the crime family began boosting their own extended clan, along with their territory.

But for the most part they had left the Sons alone. Whether it was because he felt compassion for his fellow vets or because he had bigger problems, John hadn’t cared. And neither had Jax. Until now.

“What would the Cacuzza’s want with the Vipers?”

Juice shrugged.

“Could they be using the Vipers to mule their supply?” Chibs wondered.

A possibility, sure, and Jax wouldn’t rule anything out at this point, but it didn’t feel right. The Italians had good connections, and good people working for them. They wouldn’t shop outside their circle to traffic their products.  
“You know it was Italian?” Jax wanted to confirm, somewhat unsure of the whole situation.

“I’m not fucking stupid. I may not speak it, but I know it when I hear it.”

“You remember any of what they said?”

Juice thought silently for a minute, trying to get the correct pronunciation, rubbing a sore spot on his head.  
“Testa was said a lot. Usually with the word Taglia.”

“Head and Price. Head... someone has a price on their head.” Tig translated.

“Christ Tig, is there any language you don’t speak.”

“I don’t speak Irish Cunt Chibs. But Hey, maybe you can teach me eh?”

The van broke out in laughter, for the first time in a long time, as Chibs took pot shots back at Tig.

“Yeah, well fuck you too Tig.”

Tig waves Chibs off, both men falling back into friendship after the moment of animosity.  
Once the van had lulled to a calm again, Juice continued with the information spill.

“La Guerra... said that a few times too. Means War, right?”

“Like they’re starting one?” a disembodies voice asked.

“Or in one.”

Juice shook his head very slowly, the pain still ever present.

“It was... like... memories. Like they were talking past tense.”

Opie gave a small frown before the silence set in. Everyone was pulling at their collective memories, hunting for a story, a word, a look. Something that would get them closer to figuring out what the fuck was going on.

“Nove.”

Juice was the first to break the silence.

“They said it all the time, like on a loop. Nove. Testa de nove, uccidere i nove –“

“Wait. Juice. Are you sure?” Tig asked, abruptly cutting him off as Opie pushed down on the gas pedal a little harder, the border between the two countries coming into site.

“Absolutely. It was like a mantra to them, as if they wanted me to remember it.”

“Uccidere i nove.” Tig turned to Opie. “Means ‘murder the nine.’”


	17. Consequences

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 17  
Consequences

The words rumbled in Opie’s ear as he floored it the entire way home. If Giovanni Cacuzza was out for blood and murdering the First Nine, then there weren’t too many left on the list.

John and Piney had founded the group, along with original members Keith McGee, Peter ‘Pan’ Helms, Richard ‘Whiskers’ Harris, Brad Mazur, Steven Sherwood, Orin ‘Raider’ Sagan and Clarence Morrow.

Of the First 9, Peter was the first to go. Not long after the group had formed he was lost when his bike veered off the edge the highway, plummeting eighty feet into a gorge, to his death. 1968.

Next was Steven Sherwood, who was shot in the back by Buford Tannan, then leader of the One Niners, in a three day bloodbath the club referred to as ‘Hamburger Meat Monday’. 1977.

Then it was John, who died on the road in 1993.

Brad and Orin went together, when their plane crashed into the Rockies on Christmas Eve of 2004. There wasn’t anything left of the wreckage when the search parties stumbled across it.

Keith’s number was up in 2010, when Clay pushed him from the roof of a building in Ireland for being a trader.

Which left Clay and Piney.  
Which left Piney.

The boys raced right to the shop, Opie pulling in on two wheels, stopping short of the bikes on the lot. Piney’s was still there, and everything seemed too quiet as the sun began to rise behind them.

“PINEY!!” Jax’ distinctive holler echoed through the lot.

“Piney!” “Pop!” “Pine!!” as everyone exited the van in search of the man.

Piney came stumbling out of the club, still drunk from the events proceeding, squinting at the boys as he tried to drag his oxygen tank with him. He hollered at the crew that was hurriedly approaching him.

“What the fuck is all the noise about. You assholes woke me u-“

A loud hiss erupted from being the aging biker, lasting about four seconds, before the club exploded into a fireball, blasting out the windows and spewing glass everywhere, and throwing Piney face first into the ground.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	18. Aftermath

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 18  
Aftermath

The fire department was there in six minutes, and stayed well until dinner time trying to douse the flames. Unser made his way in shortly behind the firemen, and not much before the feds. Page and Plant again.

The boys co-operated to a point, Unser helping them out with their story to cover any weapons charges that might come up when the feds made their way inside. Both the law and the crew knew it’d been intentional. Explosives set to destroy the building and anyone left inside it.

Luckily, Piney was the only one spending the night in the club. And the boys had arrived just in time.

The ambulance took the old man away, Opie going along with his father. Though Piney had insisted he was alright, just a little scuffed up, Opie, Jax and Unser pushed him to get a look-over. Opie and Unser thinking of the man’s health and Jax insisting that he go for the good of the club.

The acting president didn’t need to say it outright. ‘For the good of the club’ basically meant for the people responsible. Because they wanted Piney dead. And they wouldn’t stop until he was.

The feds didn’t bother taking a look through the building. They were quite happy not to have to venture into the smoke smelling, water logged, over cooked building. They knew enough about the club to know what they’d find in there and they certainly didn’t feel like all that paperwork.

Jax let Tig and Chibs take care of the firemen and the insurance calls and made sure Juice and Diana got home safe. Jax insisted that Juice go along and get some rest before returning to the club. Whatever business they had to handle could wait a day at least, and if it couldn’t then Juice would be well informed. There was a phone call Jax had to make, and as soon as they allowed him into the Teller-Morrow offices, he’d make it.

There was still one other member of the original nine in circulation.

Richard Harris, better known as Whiskers for the long, full beard he’d kept, had transferred charters in seventy eight. There’d been a big blowout about something or other, no one had ever told Jax, and he chose to leave, starting up a charter in San Antonio.

A city with a very prominent Mayan affiliate.

Though Richard had no serious problems with the Mayans in recent memory, he was sure to have a change of luck. Once the Cacuzzas found out where Richard was there’d be no stopping them. Jax didn’t put it past them to reach out to another enemy to make fast forgot of a common nuisance.

Jax found the number in Gemma’s Rolodex and thumbed it into his prepaid. He locked the office door as he hit send, sitting in his mother’s chair as it rang.

“Yeah.” Answered a man pushing sixty, his gravelly voice sandpapering its way over the phone.

He sounded stressed and tired. Jax could almost hear him rubbing his neck with his free hand as he waited for a voice to respond.

“Whiskers. It’s Jackson.”

There was a deep sigh of regret before Jax could continue. Richard spoke.

“Jax. Hey son. I’d heard about Clay. Sorry man. Shit’s fucken nuts.”

“Yeah, thanks man. S’actually why I’m calling. We think the Cacuzza’s are after the First 9. They kidnapped one of our guys so they could blow up our church. Tryin’ to take out Piney. I’m pretty sure they hired some Mexican new bloods to off Clay.”

Richard’s stressed chuckle reverberated through the mouthpiece and into Jax’s ear, causing the younger man to pull the phone away abruptly for a second, before Richard calmed and started to talk again.

“That explains a lot.”

Richard crossed the street, moving further away from the flashing lights and the swarms of people who’d gathered around them. Most of the neighbourhood had turned out to watch the San Antonio charter burn to the ground, though Richard had expected some of them were there to watch the fire department try to eradicate the flames.

They weren’t sure how it had started, but Richard had suspected it was a Molotov cocktail that ignited the club. Made sense to him, since anyone could have gotten close enough during the night to toss it over.

A party the night before meant that the place was littered with the bodies of those who were sleeping it off. Club members, their old ladies, and a few friends alike. Upwards of twenty people, Richard couldn’t be sure of the exact headcount. He thought mostly everyone had made it out alright, but he knew for certain they had lost a brother in the blaze.

“Our charter is burning to the ground as we speak. I was figuring Mayans, considering our trouble with them here recently. I wouldn’t think they’d ally with the Italians, but new times and all that horseshit.”

Richard was stressed, and it came out in his voice. He thought for a moment.

“How is Pine Tree?”

Jax smiled.

“He’s okay. Taken to the hospital for a good once-over. How is your crew?”

 

“Honestly? We’re hurtin’. Man down ‘cause of the fire. I don’t know if we lost anyone else yet. They’re all pretty down. Gotta find a place to hold a meeting...”

Richard had trailed off, thinking out loud and into his cell phone. Jax hadn’t even thought of that yet.  
The pair were silent as their thoughts took over. It was a few minutes of no noise before Richard broke it.

“Hey brother, keep me updated will ya? I got stuff to sort out right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries man. Take care.”

Jax closed his phone and let out a deep sigh, relaxing tentatively back into the soft chair. They’d need a place to hold a meeting, to get their shit sorted.

The only thing he could come up with was Gemma’s.


	19. Something To Lean On

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 19  
Something To Lean On

Happy was worried for Juice, and the boys knew it, so Jax asked him to make sure Juice and Diana got home safe. Happy drove the van, with Diana cuddling her other half in the back.

Though Juice insisted he was fine, to the point of nearly angering his brother, Happy still saw them to their door.  
“I’m going for a shower.” Juice brought Diana into his arms, placing a quick, gentle kiss on her forehead, whispering one last ‘I’m fine’ before taking off into the second floor apartment.

 

Diana could tell Happy was waiting to say something, she thought Juice did too, which was why she didn’t follow him in through the front door and why Juice let her alone on the front porch.

“You know him better than anyone.” Happy stated after Juice closed the door.

“I do.” Diana answered the non-question.

“So how do you think he’s holding up?”

Diana looked back to the door as she heard the water kick in, coming from the bathroom.

“He’s strong Happy. Give him a little time, he’ll be fine. If it gets bad I’ll call you.”

Diana tried to be positive, put on a smile for Happy. She hoped he bought it.

“Yeah, alright.” Happy looked a little disappointed, almost sad. “You alright?”

Diana smiled, gently smacking Happy on the arm, bringing the light back to his eyes.

“You kiddin’ me. Tough as nails. Go on Hap. I’m sure the boys need ya.”

Happy smiled, giving Diana a half hug before reminding her to call if she needed something before he left.

 

Diana opened the door and closed it quickly, resting against the back of the door, taking a deep breath in before exhaling in the same manner.

 

Juice let the hot water run over his tan skin, beading where it didn’t run over his tired, pained muscles, bouncing off him with force where it didn’t hug him. Juice hung his head, leaning an arm on the wall, not relaxing in the slightest. The water was hot but there was no warmth. His body refused to allow it in, the wall already building as he heard the front door open and close quickly.

 

Diana started on dinner. Lemon and Rosemary Chicken, Garlic Mashed Potatoes and Candied Carrots. All of Juice’s favourites. He’d spent so much time in the shower that dinner was done when he’d emerged.

He appreciated it, it truly did. Diana worked hard to always make sure he was constantly happy when he was home. And he was. He was happy with her. He did adore her, love her. Completely. He sat across from her at their four-seat, second hand dining room table, both picking at their dinners. Both unusually quiet and reserved.

Diana loved him. There may have been a more eloquent way of saying it, but it was pure and uncomplicated, her passion for him. And intense. Some days, like the one passed, it was all she felt. Her love for him consuming her, driving her towards him. Her need for him to be safe being greater than her own instinct for survival.

She also knew him. And had known him for more than twelve years. They’d met in high school, though they’d only been together for a handful of years, she’d always known him. Known when he was happy, sick, angry, or upset. She knew with a look, a word, a sigh. Even when he tried to hide it.  
Tonight was one of those nights.

 

Juice smiled, picking at his chicken, eating it in small, barely-there bites. Not really tasting the little he was eating.

“It’s really good babe. Thanks for making my favourites.”

The corners of his mouth turned up more at the end of his few words. He wasn’t lying, he was thankful. Thankful she cared enough to go through the effort of a real dinner. Thankful to have her stand by his side through all the terrible shit he dragged home with him. Just... thankful.

Diana smiled warmly back at him.

“Thanks honey. Glad you like it.”

She knew his heart wasn’t in it tonight. He was so distant, his eyes closing him off just behind his irises, not  
allowing a look into his broken, battered soul. That is what broke her soul, more than anything else. Juice closed himself off to keep her from feeling the pain he harboured.

Diana wasn’t sure what hurt more. Knowing, or not knowing.  
She smiled like she always did.  
From the heart.

 

Juice had suggested a movie, which Diana agreed to almost hurriedly, happy that he was communicating at least that much to her. He chose The Green Mile and Diana put the disc in the dvd player while Juice pulled the blanket from atop the couch. He waited for her to retreat before wrapping it, along with his arms, around her. Together they curled up in the corner of the couch and awaited the opening scene.

Diana hadn’t realized the reason for The Green Mile until it neared its end. She’s always found the death of John Coffey an unbearable one. The man had done nothing but good for the people around him, saved the lives of those he could, and suffered a fate he didn’t deserve so a family could have the closure they so desperately needed.

The pain she felt for the loss of John Coffey was, at times, unbearable.

“Please boss, don't put that thing over my face, don't put me in the dark. I's afraid of the dark.”

 

Juice had resituated himself, lying across the couch with his head on Diana’s lap while she ran her hand lazily through his Mohawk, if only to touch him.

It was as she tried to stifle her own tears that she heard Juice hiccup at his. Diana ran her hand down the back of his head, his neck, over his shoulder and over his arm, clutching his shirt and pulling him closer to her, her other arm reaching between them and up around to meet the other. This was why he’d picked the movie. He just needed a reason to cry.

Once it became overwhelming, the pain and the memories of the few days that had passed, he let it go. Let it consume him. His soul breaking along with his heart, the tears surfacing swiftly and continuously. Juice didn’t try to control them, he didn’t try to hide it from her.

Diana kissed his head, pressing her lips above his ear, resting her cheek there to maintain the contact they both needed. Him more so than her. They stayed there long after the closing credits.

 

Hours later he couldn’t remember who had suggested going to bed early, but he was happy someone had. It wasn’t the sex he’d been craving (though it had been better than night than in recent memory), it was the connection, the closeness that both of them needed.

Wrapped up in each other’s arms, legs intertwining the way their fingers did, Juice rubbing the top of his foot on the back of Diana’s calf, nuzzling into the nape of her neck as he spooned her.

Juice hummed gently, turning his ambient noises into a song, stringing them along into one another, making Diana smile.

She leaned further back into him, even though they were already impossibly close, Diana exhaling a lung full of air she didn’t realize she’d been holding onto.

“You okay?” Juice asked out of the blue.

“I am. Are you alright?”

Juice smiled as Diana craned her neck, trying to see him without moving too much. Juice leaned over, giving Diana a long, deep, lust-filled kiss, the tow of them turning their bodies into it and each other until Juice was half on top of Diana again.

 

He ran his fingers over the worry lines that wrinkled her too perfect forehead. He knew that she was concerned for him, about what had happened. He knew she was right to be too. It had been a very rough few days. Losing Clay, being taken hostage, seeing Diana working with the club. It was taking its toll.

 

Juice cupped her face in his hands, their eyes locking and burrowing deep into each other’s souls.

Having her there, being at home with Diana, it was helping. Juice was relieved to know that she’d always be there for him, to take care of him. He didn’t deserve her, though she’d smack him if he said it aloud. He smiled.

“I. LOVE you baby.”

He kissed her gently again before curling up around her, lying his head on her chest, letting her heart beat lull him into a restful sleep.

 

His eyes said it all. The pain was still evident, blazing through his soul, but the fire was being extinguished and the cracks in his armour were slowly repairing themselves. It might be some time, they both knew it, but he would be better and that was the most important thing.

“I love you too Jay.”

Diana wrapped an arm around him, kissing the top of his head as her breathing steadied and slowed as she drifted off with him.

If making Juice better required more days like this, she was all too ready for it.


	20. Lonely is The Night

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 20  
Lonely Is The Night

Gemma rubbed her eyes, her reading glasses bouncing between her face and hands. Her eyes were getting tired of trying to work the math for Teller-Morrow. Numbers weren’t adding up, and the more she looked at it the worse it got. She’d have to talk to Bobby tomorrow. He was the last one to balance the ledgers.

“Hey baby. You still on the clock?”

Clay noticed the file folder in her hand, and the few scattered over the bed. She was still working. Always working.

“Just going over a few things. How was the ride today?”

Clay had started to undress, pulling his sweat stained black t-shirt off and throwing it onto the floor.

“Went smooth.”

Gemma nodded.

“Good.”

Clay was quiet as he stripped to his boxers before climbing into bed with his wife. Gemma compiled all the paperwork and set it aside on her night table, placing her glasses atop the small stack.

“I’m concerned about Jax.”

Clay made sure not to roll his eyes at Gemma’s words. Her wrath was something he didn’t want to inflict on himself. Instead he shrugged as he warmed up under the covers.

“He seemed fine today.”

He could lie to himself just fine, but Gemma always seemed to know when he was trying to fool her.

“Cut the crap Clay, he’s not alright. I don’t know what’s buggin’ that kid, but he’s not been the same since Half Sack died.”

“The Irish had his kid, of course he was a wreck. I think he just needs time to get back to life.”

Gemma sighed, turning out her table light and plunging the room into darkness.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Gemma slid herself down the bed, settling in for the night and wrapping her arms around Clay’s lap as he remained seated, back against the mahogany headboard. Gemma shivered at the feel of his skin. So cold.

“Babe, you’re freezing.” She squeezed him.

Clay put a hand on her back and rubbed in gently circles, calming her.

“That’s because I’m dead baby.”

Gemma let the words roll around inside her skull.  
Clay was dead.

“But...if you’re dead Clay, then who’s—“

“Gem, Gemma. Calm down honey.”

Tig rubbed her back in gentle circles, the way he knew she liked and Gemma settled, never fully waking from the nightmare. She tightened her grip on Tig, her arm wrapped securely over his lap as he sat in his jeans, t-shirt and his cut, leaning against the mahogany headboard, on top of the comforter.

It was the third night in a row that they’d done this. Gemma too heartbroken to be alone. Tig upset at seeing her that way. The two of them finding comfort in the shared loss of a friend and partner.

Tig shushed her as she relaxed again, falling deep into her sleep once more. He didn’t rest a moment until he was sure she was alright. He leaned his head back, noticing the clock as he closed his eyes.  
3:42am.  
Another restless night on the books.


	21. The Hardest Word

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 21  
The Hardest Word

It was late when Opie made his way home. Again.

Jo had long since fed his kids, helped them with their homework and put them to bed. Again.

She was finishing up some last minute dishes when he came through the front door.

Opie left his boots on as he walked through the house. He stopped in the kitchen for a beer, pulling one out from the fridge, before he spoke. Opie slowed as he passed behind Jo, kissing the top of her head as his free hand skimmed across her back. He leaned against the counter and watched her work.

“Sorry.” He apologised for the late hour, again.

“I know.”

The pattern they repeated like a favourite record was starting to wear thin. Jo didn’t blame him, she wasn’t angry at him for it, just generally displeased. She was trying to understand.

He rested his beer on the counter and turned the running water off, taking Jo by the arm, pulling her into him.

“I’m sorry.”

Opie’s tone was even more serious than it usually was. Plain, straight and even, but it broke with sadness as he held her close.

She embraced him back, slipping am arm under his cut, his skin hot through his shirt. Jo spoke softly.

“It’s alright baby.”

Opie cuddled into Jo, burying his head into the long, soft dark hair that swept across her neck.

She felt the dampness of the tears before she heard him crying, both awarenesses falling one on top of the other. Jo clutched onto him, fearing more bad news about Piney.

“I’m sorry.” Opie seemed to whisper, more to himself than to Jo.

“Whatever it is Ope, it’s gonna be alright.”

Jo’s voice ghosted over him and Opie burst into a blubber of tears, shaking from the force of it. Whatever was upsetting him now had been burning a hole in him for quite some time. It wasn’t about Piney. It was about something else.

Opie lost the little strength he had, falling back into the counter and sliding down towards the floor, slipping away from Jo in the process.

She quickly caught up to him as Opie had curled himself into a rough ball, face in his hands as he cried, and cried hard.  
Jo pulled him back towards her, rocking him as he shook with the pain and the tears that were attacking him.

“Shhhhhhhh baby. It’s alright now. You’re home.”

Jo held onto her emotions as she sat consoling Opie, knowing now that his breakdown wasn’t because of something that had happened, but because of something he had done. Something necessary, but unforgiveable. Something he’d never be able to take back. Something he’d never tell her.

He continued to cry and shake, and Jo kept rocking him like a child. She remained quiet, softly shushing him when she felt he needed it. Opie spoke the same two words in hushes and hiccups, over and over again, it never being enough.  
I’m sorry.


	22. Breakfast in America

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 22  
Breakfast In America

The crew had finished the breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, home fries and fruit that Gemma had awoken early to prepare. As if she were Wonder Woman, she’d had it all within a minute of being finished cooking when the boys who weren’t staying with her arrived.

The family ate at the table, crowded around close together for lack of feasible space. Arms crossed in front of plates and faces, reaching for things. Jokes flew further than the scrambled eggs did, which Gemma appreciated. She’d hate to have to harass the boys at such an early hour. They managed to keep their barbaric behaviour to a minimum.

The boys helped clean up, until Gemma refused the overload of help that only created chaos in the kitchen. Jax and Tig helped pile the dishes, which they both insisted they’d help with later, and coffee was dispersed.

The playful, light looks that were shared during their morning meal were replaced with the sullen, scorned and pained faces that knew of the work they needed to finish.

Gemma gave Jax a hug, telling him she was going to take Abel to see Piney, half to check on the old man and half to get out of their hair. Jax nodded, her leaving him to tell the boys about the arrangements for their fallen leader.  
Jax took seat at the head of the table, a chair formerly reserved only for Clay, once Gemma was clear of the house. Everyone took notice, the symbolism of the act ringing deep with the club.

“Gemma’s made the arrangements for Clay. The wake is tomorrow and the funeral is to follow right after. Word’s been spread. We’re expecting a lot of charters to be present.” Jax’s tone sounding sombre and understated.

“Tacoma and Nevada most certainly.” Chibs thought aloud.

“New York left as soon as they heard.” Tig announced.

“Renny in Florida said they were heading out.” Bobby had been told by his friend and Jacksonville Charter President.

“Ohio, the Dakota’s, a lot of charters called in.” Happy informed the group, having fielded most of them.

Silence filled the room as they all took a moment to let it sink in. Tomorrow they would put their President into the ground, say a final goodbye to Clay, with a hundred close friends present. Jax continued from where the thoughts left off.

“Unser said he’d handle some security detail for the club. Make sure the funeral went off without an incident, but just to be sure we’ll get the prospects to lend a hand. Some of the other charters too.”

A collective nod waved through the group. Plans sounded reasonable.

“How your old man doing Ope?” Jackson asked on behalf of the group.

“Well. I called in a favour. They’re going to keep him in as long as they can. He doesn’t like being there though. I’m sure he’ll want out for tomorrow.”

“You want him out?”

“Doesn’t matter Jax. You know he’ll just leave. He’s not going to miss it.”

“Bobby? You go with Opie to rangle Piney?”

“’Course.”

“Right. Happy? Talk to Juice?”

“Early this morning. He’s doing alright. Recovering. I promised to head over after the meeting, fill him in.”

“Good stuff.”

Jax took a deep breath in as he leaned forward, tensing a little at the thought of what was to come next.

“I spoke to the investigators and Unser last night. Preliminary results seem to indicate that it was a propane tank that blew. I’m thinking it was more like seven or ten of them. Either way, the club’s a fucking shell of a disaster. There’ll be a lot of work to do.”

Chibs spoke up first.

“I know a guy that’ll do it for cheap.”

“Give him a call?”

“Will do.”

“We’ll get the prospects to salvage what they can out of the building. Might not be much.”

“You talk to Whiskers yesterday?” Tig asked, recalling their conversation in the van.

“Yeah. Shit luck in Texas too. Charter there was an ashen wreck too. They lost a few guys, and the club’s dog.”

“Dodge?” Tig looked quickly up at Jax.

“Yeah man. Sorry.”

A tear threatened to escape as Tig pulled himself together.

“Man. I loved that dog.”

Tig hung his head towards the kitchen table once more, Jackson patting the man to his right on the arm.

“I know man.”

“What’s with you man, you’re more attached to a fucking dog you’ve seen twice than you are people you’ve known for years.”

Chib’s comment fell far from being a joke to Tig, who turned harshly and pointed a finger at the man next to him.

“Fuck off you prickless wonder.”

“Jax, what’s the plan for the Italians.”

Opie’s statement broke up the bickering that was already wearing on the club. There were more pressing matters.

“Phil is sitting on the Cacuzza house north of the city. Mike is watching the Mayan charter and Lewis is keeping an eye on the Viper bar. I think our bases are covered there. If any one of them makes a move we’ll know about it.”

“Phil called in about an hour ago. Said there was no action yet.”

“I doubt they’d be trying anything again soon, but err on the side of caution. Keep on guard any time Whiskers and Piney are at the same location.”

Everyone nodded in seemed agreement, relaxing into their chairs a little. Everything seemed to be sorting itself out, putting the crew at ease.

Jax looked towards the clock on the far wall, noticing that time kept slipping forward fast, and there was still much he had to do for tomorrow.

“Anyone have anything to add?”

The comfortable silence continued, everyone feeling good with what was said and having nothing to add to it. Jackson shrugged back into his seat.

 

Opie and Happy were the first to leave the table, taking off to their respective family and friends to check in, fill them in.

Chibs and Bobby left moments later, planning to stop off at Chib’s buddy’s place of employment to get him on board with fixing up the club. Chibs had mentioned something about having info on the guy which would make him easily agreeable. Jax didn’t ask.

Leaving Tig for company.

Jackson turned to his brother, and Tig in turn have him a small grin. Tig gave his friend a pat on the shoulder as he rose from his chair, the legs scraping against the floor as it pushed backward.

Jax followed him, both men heading into the kitchen and the pile of dishes that sat on the counter.

There was still much work to be done, for the club, for the clubhouse, for Juice and Piney and Clay. So much work to be done...

Tig turned on the hot water, pouring Dawn into the sink and overdoing it on the soap. Jax pulled the dry towel from the handle of the oven that it rested on.

Tig washed while Jax dried, both men finding solace in the simple act of washing dishes.


	23. Enemy of My Enemy

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 23  
Enemy Of My Enemy

Lewis was growing tired. He’d been sitting around the corner from the Viper bar hangout, trying desperately to look inconspicuous, for the last sixteen hours. He was failing miserably. He was noticed by almost every passerby. Luckily though, he managed to stay off the radar of the bar and its patrons. He figured they had more important things on their mind.

He watched the front door and the parking lot with the kind of intensity that might have been able to burn a hole through the reinforced steel or the asphalt. He was told to watch for activity, and he was ready for it.

 

Phil was rather angry. Almost fifteen hours into his shift on the Cacuzza household and not a damn thing had happened yet, unless you counted the turning on and off of lights something to report in, which Phil didn’t. He was starting to feel like he was wasting his time as the last light in the house turned out and the garage door began to lift.

 

Mike wasn’t having any better luck. The Mayans were enjoying what looked like a light gathering, the entire charter having gathered at their club house. If there was music playing it was quiet enough that he couldn’t hear it from his hiding place across the street. No one had come or gone in hours. Mike was getting restless and impatient waiting for something to happen after just over fourteen hours of watching from a distance when the door to the club house opened, releasing Alvarez and a few of his men into the sunshine of the day.

 

Phil followed the three oldest Cacuzza brothers – Giovanni, Jimmy and Angel – as they sped out of the driveway South towards town. He made sure to keep his distance and remain inconspicuous, like he had in life, never being seen as they took the Pacific Coast Highway into Charming.

Phil pulled his prepaid from his pocket, pressing the ‘1’ button before hitting send.

 

Jax was standing in front of what was left of the club house, listening to Chibs’ friend Nathan ramble on about structural damages and the cost of repairing versus tearing it completely down and starting from scratch when his phone started to rattle in his pocket, saving him from the boring conversation.

“Yeah.” Jax answered, turning away from Nathan, leaving him in Chibs’ care.

“It’s Phil. They’re on the move, three Cacuzza’s. Heading into town.”

“Giovanni?”

“And two of his brothers.”

“Where are you?”

“Just passed the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign, from the North.”

“Alright, I’m on my way. Keep me updated Phil.”

“Will do sir.”

“Good job Prospect.”

Jax closed his phone with one hand and called Chibs over, his brother abandoning the man with the clipboard and calculator.

“We got movement on the Italians. You can handle it here?”

“You’re good going alone Jackie?”

Jax insisted he was, and that he’d call in if something was gonna go down, so Chibs took over with the repair calculations as Jax jumped on his Harley, peeling out of the parking lot.

 

Tig was trying to get him mind off of the crazy shit he was getting too used to seeing the last week.  
As soon as he’d decided the house needed cleaning, that was it.

Tig had found an apron, bright pink with white lace trim, in the closet with a few pairs of elbow length yellow rubber gloves and an endless supply of cleaners, mops, buckets and rags. It took no time for Tig to get dressed up and prepared.

He had polished all of Gemma’s hardwood floors, dusted the knick knack cases and book shelves, tidied up Abel’s room and was in the process of scrubbing the last of Gemma’s two and a half baths when his phone started vibrating against his left ass cheek.

Tig stopped half way through scrubbing the second bathtub of the day, peeling the rubber glove from his hand before reaching for his phone.

“Yeah.” He answered shortly.

Mike cowered on the other end. He hadn’t wanted to call Tig, but he was out of options.

“It’s Mike Mr. Tig.”

Tig was angry now, having been bothered by a douchebag prospect.

“What the fuck are you calling me for?”

“Sorry Tig, Jax’s phone is busy. I didn’t know who else to call.”

“I’m fucking busy Prospect. Someone better be fucking .... WHAT do you WANT!!” Tig stopped himself, thinking it bad karma to wish someone dead at this point in the game.

“It’s the Mayans sir. They’re moving. Alvarez and a few of his men. Heading into the center of town.”

Tig stopped his screaming and his scrubbing and thought for a minute.

“Jax’s phone was busy?”

“Yes sir.”

“Fuck off. Where are you?” Tig asked, muttering the first part to himself.

“Heading north, just passed the ‘Welcome to Charming’ sign a minute ago.”

“I’ll catch up in a few. Keep trying Jax.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.”

“Shut the fuck up Prospect.”

Tig closed it phone and placed it back next to his butt. He was furious, pulling his other glove off and gathering the cleaning supplies from the bathroom. Muttering to himself the entire time, as he prepared to leave the house.

“Fucking Prospects.”

 

Lewis was watching the hang out, and still nothing was happening. Two of the members had left the already crowded interior of the bar to smoke outside in the sunlight and converse about God knows what. Lewis had wished he had ears on the place. Though it wasn’t his place to go suggesting things, now he wished he had mentioned added technologicalities.

The rumble had started low, from far away, but Lewis felt it all the same. The encroaching sound and feel of metal and leather on two wheels. He tried to squeeze himself closer into the building that he leaned against, but it only helped to make him more suspicious to the shop owner across the street.

Lewis kept his eyes on the street and the bar as three jet black Harley’s pulled into the parking lot behind the Viper designed bikes. He squinted, trying to focus on their faces as he searched his pockets for his cell phone.

They stopped when they reached the front door to the bar, the leader of the other two knocking before waiting to be let in. It was an obvious sign of respect. They were entering enemy territory.

One of the Vipers opened the door for them, letting them in without a second glance. Lewis was taken aback.  
The Vipers were being friendly with more than just the Mayans...

The door closed behind the men as Lewis thumbed the ‘1’ and send buttons on his cell phone. He had managed to catch a glimpse of the first man’s face, as he turned around to scan the street one last time. They were 1-9ers.  
He continued to watch the closed door as he got Jax’s answering machine.

 

Jax had unknowingly turned his phone off when he closed it, so he rode in silence North through the city, catching up with Phil in mere minutes and missing the five phone calls he’d gotten.

Phil gestured forward, three cars up. The Cacuzza’s were packed lightly into a black 1939 De Soto and headed through town towards the center of it. Jax didn’t say anything to Phil. He continued on, keeping pace with traffic and the Prospect. He would have recognized that car in a pile up of black 1939 De Soto’s.

They stayed back, waiting and watching, following at a safe distance until the De Soto pulled into a parking lot up the road. Jax turned onto a side street and Phil followed suit. They made their way around the bend and back again, pulling up behind Lewis, Mike and Tig.

 

Tig sped on his hog, trying to find the ever elusive Mike. He finally did catch up with the man and the Mayans he was following, almost getting caught by the prey they were supposed to be hunting.

They followed the Mayan leaders as they drove lazily toward the center of town. The three of them pulling into the parking lot of the Viper bar.

Tig and Mike drove past the bar without a second look, making as if they had no interest in the club or the people who were arriving there. They made their way around the block, Mike following Tig as they rolled up on Lewis, who was on the phone trying to get a hold of Jax.

Lewis closed his phone and discarded it into a pocket, relieved to see Tig.

“Thank god man, I’ve been trying to call Jax forever.”

“Acting Prez is M.I.A. at the moment. What’s up?”

“Look.”

Lewis gestured towards the Viper bar and the parking lot in question.  
It was full of bikes, cars and trucks.

“The 1-9ers were the first to show. Rolled in about twenty minutes ago. Then the Nords. Some guys I’m guessing are the IRA from the flags on their car, and the League of Nationalists. Heads from all the major MCs and syndicates are here. Except the Italians and the Aryans.”

“Ugh, scratch that. Brotherhood’s pulling in right now.”

“All the gangs in town are meeting.”

“Are you sure?” Tig wanted to be certain.

“I’ve been watching the place for almost seventeen hours. No one’s come or gone until twenty minutes ago. I’m certain.”

Tig ran a hand over his face, terrified at the idea of a room full of men who hated each other getting along for any amount of time.

He feared. For the first time in a long time Tig felt a small amount of terror run through him. The town was gathering, the amount of people gathered in one small space vastly outnumbering the Sons. The force inside could destroy the club Tig held dear inside his heart.

“Where the fuck is Jax...”

As if on cue, Tig’s comment brought Jax and Phil into the picture.

 

As soon as Jax was off the bike, Tig pulled him aside to compare notes.

Lewis was right. The 1-9ers, The Nords, The True IRA, The League of American Nationalists, The Aryan Brotherhood, The Mayans and the Cacuzza family were gathered in the House of Viper. Every major gang and club in the area were meeting together. Every group except the Sons.

“You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin?” Tig asked, afraid of Jax’s answer.

“I think they’re all gangin’ up on us Tig. I think we’re in deep fuckin’ shit.”


	24. Best Laid Plans

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 24  
Best Laid Plans

An hour later and everyone was at the club.  
What was left of the club.

The torched remnants of the building served as a reminder of why they were gathering, for the second time that day.

Happy, Juice, Chibs, Tig, Bobby, Opie, Piney and Jax stood amongst the wreckage, standing where the chapel had once been, the charred remains of the table keeping them grounded.

“They’re fucking joining fucking forces man.” Tig exclaimed, looking for something to smash his fist on and coming up short.

Jax rested a brotherly hand on Tig’s shoulder, agreeing with him while trying to calm him down in one move.  
“This is bad news Jackie boy.”

“I know,” Jax admitted to Chibs. “that’s why we need to bring them to us. It’s clear they’re going to make a move and the last thing this club needs is more bodies piling up on our front step.”

Juice piped up, having not spoken his mind in some time.

“They outnumber us Jax.”

“They outnumber Samcro. But we’ve got Tacoma, Nevada, Florida, New York and San Antonio on their way in. Who knows how many Nomads are gonna make an appearance. If we can convince half of them to join our cause, I think we’d be at equal strength.”

“Yeah, if we do it tomorrow.” Tig wasn’t so optimistic.

“After the burial.”

The entire club turned their focus on Jax, staring him down, checking to see if he was serious.

He was. If they could convince enough charter members and Nomads to join them, they’d be unstoppable.

“And where do you plan to have this western showdown.” Bobby chimed in.

Jax gave a wicked grin before answering.

“Here.”

Piney scoffed.

“Here.”

“They wanna destroy it. Let them.”

“My guy said repairing it would cost more than rebuilding. We’re gonna have to tear it down anyway.” Chibs informed the club.

“So let’s give it an amazing send off. There’s enough of the building left standing that we’re not completely exposed.”

“It’s doable.” Chibs’ accent filling the room.

“We could do it.”

“All those in favour.”

Silence rolled through what was left of the chapel as the club thought.  
Thought if it was possible.   
Thought if they could get enough people to join them.  
Thought if the location was right for it.  
Thought about revenging Clay’s death.  
Thought about avenging the club.

One by one, in near rapid-fire succession, each hand in the room made their way for the sky.

“All opposed.”

And they went down.

“I hate to spoil the party here boys, but, Jax – how exactly do you plan on getting all those fucking bastards to show up here?” Tig asked their unofficial leader.

Again Jax smiled, broader this time, and placed that same hand once more on Tig’s shoulder.

“That, my brother, is where you get to shine.”


	25. Deep Into The Ground

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 25  
Deep Into The Ground

 

Jax was surprised by the turnout. He knew that Clay had burned some bridges in the last years of his life, but still people numbered in the hundreds to see him off one last time.  
Members from various charters turned out for Clay’s burial. Tacoma, Nevada, New York, Florida, Louisiana, and San Antonio charters arrived in droves throughout the night, and more than thirty Nomads had appeared one at a time before the wake.

Jax now stood at the head of the closed casket, surrounded by his club and his family, brothers from other charters and a handful of townsfolk. Jax was certain he knew every face in the crowd, but he didn’t really see any of them.

He felt a small pang of guilt, because his thoughts should have been with Clay. He should have been feeling upset over his passing. Jax’s stepfather, his uncle, his brother, his friend.  
But his mind was stuck on the last time they were at that cemetery. And the last member of the club they’d buried there.

His Kip.

A tear streaked Jax’s face as he spoke about family and about heart. The words being for Clay, but the meaning still holding true for his one and only. He spoke about revenge and redemption, about truth and justice, about love and loyalty. He kept himself composed, standing tall at the head of his fallen friend, never letting his emotions take hold of him completely. He showed resolve, and promise, but most of all he displayed hope. A hope for the future of the club.

Opie sat between his father and Gemma, taking in the scene with his quiet might. He listened to Jax go on about Clay, telling everyone how he was a strong, determined fighter, a man of will and conviction. A man who was dedicated to the club and his brothers, who was also full of unseen emotion and love.

But Opie knew.  
He knew more than any of his brothers ever would.  
He knew where the emotion in Jax was coming from.  
Because he knew about Jax and Kip.

Though Jax didn’t know Opie was in on their secret. He hadn’t told his brother that he knew, or how he figured it out. He’d seen the way they looked at each other when they thought no one was paying any attention, how glances lingered too long, or how Jax would walk too close towards Kip in passing just to ‘accidently’ knock arms together, or how Jax would volunteer to trade off watch with Kip – even though he was the V.P. and didn’t need to do that shit.

He did it because he wanted to spend more time with him. Because he needed to spend time with him. And Half Sack felt the same way.

Opie had confronted Kip once, just to inquire what the deal was between them. He knew instantly it was serious when Half Sack pulled the much bigger Opie outside and in a shaking panic of tears begged him not to say anything, to anyone. Kip admitted to Opie that they had been seeing each other, that they loved each other, and that Jax was terrified of anyone finding out.

Opie watched Jax continue to speak kind of the dead as a tear escaped his eye. He understood his concern. Some of their brothers wouldn’t take too kindly to the news of Jax and Half Sack. But Opie was different. And Kip knew that.

Opie didn’t care if Jax was getting it on with Kip. Opie’s main concern was that Jax was happy. And he had been.  
Past Tense.

Opie sat silently still, feeling his brother’s pain, and watching as Jax passed the floor off to Piney.

 

He didn’t have anything to say, but Jax had asked him to say something for the charters who showed up to pay respects to the fallen club president and Piney couldn’t tell the boy ‘no’ at this point, so he’d agreed.

Piney spoke kind of his former friend and brother, even though they’d been dancing the line between friend and foe for the last few years. Even if Piney was starting to grow tired of Clay’s loyalty issues and his back and forth policies, Clay was still the club president and still a member of the first nine. At the end of the day, that still meant something.

Piney didn’t shed a tear. He was stronger than that. He talked about the First Nine, forming the club, and about brotherhood – gearing the crowd up to be asked to fight alongside the brothers in a few short hours.

He looked to Richard, who was standing just behind Piney’s chair, often. The two men sharing in the story more than the rest.

 

Happy’s predisposition was set to stoic, and in true Happy fashion he looked cold as stone, perched in his seat between Chibs and Juice. But the disguise wasn’t fooling him, and he was finding it more and more difficult to keep the act up, especially when he caught Piney exchanging sad smiles with one of his oldest buddies.

Happy felt a bit more disconnected from the crowd, being in the presence of his former charter and his present one. His emotions were running the gambit, between sadness, concern, fear and eagerness.

He was saddened at the loss of his leader, someone who’d been a friend to him for years. He was concerned for the future of the club and the direction Jax would lead it in. He was afraid the club might not make it through the day, which did nothing to ease his concern. And he was eager. Eager to get going and fight the army that was gathering and plotting against him and his brothers.

Happy sat, still, silent and stone faced while his emotions tore tracks inside him.

 

Chibs was throwing everyone for a loop as he cried soundlessly but openly, tears falling in a continuous stream from under his sunglasses. He’d remove them as much as he had to when he felt like wiping his eyes.

He’d had his disagreements with Clay, much like everyone, but he’d always respected the man and the decisions he’d made. Clay was always his friend, even when the man was steering the club in the wrong direction. He was genuinely moved by the words being spoken about his brother and if he was gonna get jabs from the club for his display of feelings, he’d take them.

 

If Chibs was a crying mess, then Juice was just the opposite. He’d sat uncharacteristically frozen in his seat, watching the show unfold with distance glances and stares. He was miles away through the entire service, remembering back a few days to the pints of blood that drenched the pavement out on the main drag and the bits of brain matter and skull fragments that displayed themselves on Juice’s body.

He was lucky enough to have Diana’s support through the entire ordeal. Even during the wake and the service cemetery side, she was there, resting her right hand on Juice’s left shoulder. He took hold of her hand just to have the reassurance of flesh on flesh contact. To have the warmth of her palm against his skin.

Even if he didn’t speak, move or blink, Diana knew he was doing alright as long as they could feel each other.

 

Bobby was his typical self, watching the ceremony unfold, listening to the find memories being spoken, hearing every word Piney spoke for the charter members. He smiled when he felt moved to do so, and he stopped himself from crying at least four times. He wasn’t going to display his emotions the way Chibs was letting loose. He admired his friend and brother for being strong enough to admit his upset in public. He knew Chibs would never live it down.

Bobby and Clay had a good understanding. They didn’t always see eye to eye, but they had an honest friendship. Bobby could always let Clay know what he was thinking, feeling, about decisions and Clay had always considered what was said. That mutual respect was something Bobby was proud to have had with the club president.

He turned his head in Tig’s direction as Piney continued on, wiping the first escaping tear from his eye as he took in his brother’s reactions.

 

Tig had been shaking for most of the ceremony. It wasn’t enough to be visible, but Bobby had been feeling him twitch since they’d sat down. He’d not allowed himself to be as upset as Chibs had, but he was feeling it the way his friend was. And that internal turmoil was fuelling his quivers.

He continually took hold of hit cut to adjust it, as if needing something for his hands to do, to keep them occupied and moving.

Tig was sick with upset, heartbroken squared.  
Not only had he lost his best friend, his partner in crime, his leader. But now he was having strong feelings for the man’s wife. He was torn at respecting the relationship he had with his most trusted pal and finding the pure devoted affection he’d been looking for since he was fourteen.

Tig gulped back the fear he felt as he thought, again, about telling Gemma how he felt. His heart raced and jumped, like a hamster bouncing off a wall inside his chest. He turned to gaze in Gemma’s direction, adding fuel to the fire that burned through him.

 

Gemma.  
Gemma was wowing the crowd, impressing those who had turned out for Clay’s final goodbyes.

She sat with incredible posture, arrow straight in her seat. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but they remained dry, a cold glaze protecting her from really seeing what was going on.

She listened and smiled when appropriate, warmed by the way her son spoke about the man he sometimes despised, touched by how Piney fondly recalled moments with Clay and the club, moved by how many people took time out and traveled the country to give their friend, her husband, a remarkable send off.

Jax took his seat next to his mother, taking her hand in his. Gemma grabbed hold of him, encompassing his paw in both of hers, holding him to her.

Her emotions had been erratic for most of the last week, fluctuating between soul crushing sadness, blossoming warmth and urgent need.  
She was utterly devastated at the loss of her husband, unable to find the strength to make it through the day without at least one good breakdown. But she found the loving warmth in being surrounded by the club, the rest of her family. The support from them helping to propel her forward. And the need...

The need for comfort that only one could provide.  
The urge to touch him, and be touched by him.  
The desire to be next to him, to hold him.

There wasn’t a moment that went by where he didn’t invade her mind, trespassing most of the time.  
But she couldn’t help it.  
He wouldn’t leave her head no matter how hard she tried.  
Which wasn’t very.

Gemma gave a glance at Tig, who had turned his stare away and back at Piney. She just hoped he felt the same way...

 

With Piney’s final words being spoken, the priest took his stance at the head of the casket again. He laid one last prayer on the soul of Clarence Morrow and the club watched with solemn spirits as they lowered his body deep into the ground.

 

Jax was the last to leave the cemetery. He professed to his club that he just wanted one last word with the man who’d spent the last years of his life playing the role of his father. Everyone, including Gemma, had agreed to his request for privacy and headed out to O’Malley’s Pub with the other charters, where Jax would in short time ask for their assistance.

Opie gave Jax a brotherly embrace before he embarked with the others, knowing full well he wanted a moment alone with Kip.

Jackson waited until the bikes cleared out before he made a move, walking the twenty feet or so to the headstone marked Kip Epps.

He stood with composure for more than a minute, searching for the right words to say before he started to break.

One tear.  
Then another.  
And another.

Until he was on the ground, leaning against the stone that marked Kip’s final resting spot, curled up into it and himself, muttering through the sobs in a hush.

“I miss you baby, so much. So much...”


	26. Rallying The Troops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabble

Rallying The Troops

 

It didn’t take much effort to convince the charter members to join the Samcro Fight. Someone was trying to take out the remaining two original members on a personal vendetta that stretched over the last forty years. Piney and Richard needed them to protect their lives, and Jax and company needed them to protect what was left of their way of life.

It was going to take a lot more than a fifty of their enemies to push the Sons of Anarchy out of Charming. Especially with seventy two fighting on their side.


	27. Promises to Keep

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 27  
Promises To Keep

The air brake system on the truck was something Tig hadn’t anticipated, and it was causing him significant grief. He clunked and rattled his way down the street, jerking back and forth as the giant vehicle stopped suddenly every few feet.

He only had to drive it five blocks.

Five Minutes down the road.

And it was taking forever.

“Come on, MOVE you piece of shit.”

Tig was angry, but laughed at the irony of the situation as he jutted forward around the corner.

 

Juice and Chibs waited in the parking lot of an abandon warehouse, the meeting place Tig had sorted out for their last minute change of plans.

Tig had planned on pulling this operation off alone, but as he started piecing it together, realised it would be near impossible. He needed help. So he wrangled two of his brothers.

“Where the fuck is he?” Juice asked, checking his watch yet again as they stood conspicuously in the pot holed parking lot.

“Fuck if I know.” Chibs’ accent rang through. “He said he’d be –“

Chibs’ train of thought was cut short by the rumble of asphalt under foot and the sight of a large truck speeding toward them.

Both he and Juice backed out of the way as Tig ‘drove’ the septic truck off of the street and into the parking lot, throwing the tanker into park and jumping out of the cab.

“This is your master plan?” Juice asked, following the lead Chibs gave in backing away from the truck and the man who stole it. “Steal a shit sucker?”

“Nah. My master plan was to cover the Viper hang out with the insides of the tank. But I need you two slappers to get the job done.”

“Oh God not again.”

“Chibs is right Tig. I mean, this is extreme- even for you.”

Tig smiled, walking backwards around the front of the truck.

“It’s gonna be awesome. Come on, Juice you drive.”

“What? Why do I have to drive?”

“Because she’s a temperamental shit tank.”

Juice laughed outright at Tig while Chibs continued to shake his head in disbelief.

“You mean you can’t drive it?”

Tig pointed back towards his youngest brother, becoming sterner and demanding, in no way making an attempt to defend himself.

“Shut your trap and drive you Puerto Rican pussy.”

 

Tig forced Chibs to sit in the middle. It did make sense, since Juice was driving and Tig was the one that would have to get out of the truck, but Chibs didn’t see it that way. Stuck between two pricks wasn’t his idea of a good time.

Juice didn’t have an issue with the vehicle. Five seconds reviewing the buttons and shifts, signals and lights and he was set. Probably helped that he drove the trucks at the shop more than Tig did, but Tig didn’t feel that was the case. He sat against the door, trying hard to touch Chibs as little as he had to, feeling twice as old and useless as he did five minutes prior.

Chibs had placed one foot on each side of the bridge in the floor, one trespassing into the driver’s side and the other into the passenger’s. Juice didn’t really mind, as the extra foot wasn’t in his way, but the closeness of the confines and the added appendage set him on edge, more so that the fast & loose rulebook Tig was currently playing with.

Tig had explained his strategy a few more times inside the cab while Juice drove to their destination. He had thought it out, and it was a fully formed idea, but it seemed too difficult to pull off. They’d certainly be noticed before they approached. The tanker was old, and large, and made a great deal of noise as it rumbled through the neighbourhood. They’d be found out long before they got into position, hooked the hose to the back end and figured out the switches to get the tank to expel its contents.

That is, of course, unless they were having a party.

“Well fuck me sideways and call me Mary.”

They were having a party.

Chibs was dumbfounded. The parking lot to the Viper hangout was packed solid with cars from the Cacuzza family, the Aryans, the Nords, the Mayans, the Niners, The Nationalists, and the True IRA. Even the silver sportster that belonged to Henry Lin was sandwiched in the last row of vehicles. Every important leader from every prominent gang were sitting together, drinking hooch and getting their dicks sucked.

“Every fucker in town is in there drinking hooch and getting their dicks sucked.” Tig spoke pointedly, sticking a finger toward the door of the bar once the truck was in position.

“When I give the signal, I want you to let it loose. Don’t hold back.”

Juice gave him the reassurance he’d been seeking, acknowledging the plan once more before Tig took his place at the back of the tanker.

Chibs watched as his brother started to unravel the hose before he turned to Juice.

“You think he’s completely off his rocker?”

Juice watched from the side mirror as Tig cranked the ratchet-like attachment, securing the hose to the spout on the tank. He answered simply.

“Yep.”

Then Tig gave the thumbs up.

“But what are we gonna do about it.”

Juice hit a red button marked ‘Reverse Feed’, turned a dial below it completely to the right and pulled a lever on the other side of the steering column before wheeling his body completely around in the seat to see clearly.

Tig stood at the back of the tanker, holding the giant hose under one arm for support, taking aim as if it were a fire hose and the bar was in flames. He gave Juice the thumbs up and braced for the jolt. The tank clunked and made a shifting sound like it was gearing up to take off.

Then, as a final tell-tale sign of his plan working in his favour, the smell pushed forward.

Tig gripped hold tight the hose as he surged forward, slightly off balance, with the onslaught of mostly liquefied septic waste. It flowed with force and splattered like wet paint over the exterior of the Viper Bar, the stench making Tig, Juice and Chibs dry heave the entire time.

There was a thick coat covering the building when Tig decided to go for the kill, taking aim at Giovanni Cacuzza’s classic De Soto. It broke his heart a shave to cover a car so beautiful with something so putrid, but then he reminded himself who it belonged to and he smiled.

 

The door to the bar flung open and a crowd of people threatened to burst through it, all of them being held back by the one at the front of the line. Giovanni Cacuzza.

Juice flung the lever back into place and honked the horn, prompting Tig to disconnect and disguard the hose to the ground, hopping onto the ladder on the back of the tank as Cacuzza threw up in the doorway.

Chibs wondered why he was there while Tig gave the onlookers a half salute as he Gene Kelly swung from the back of the tanker, grabbing himself in victory and calling out to the angry mob as Juice began to speed away.

“Suck my big one fuckers!!”


	28. Happiness is A Warm Gun

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 28  
Happiness Is A Warm Gun

 

Juice pulled into the Teller-Morrow parking lot at whiplash speed. Tig jumped off the back to close and lock the gate as the hoard of motorcycles hurried towards them. Juice left the now empty tanker parked askew for added protection from the angry mob that was gathering. Tig bared his backside, smacking it with excitement as his hopped and jumped back to his brotherhood.

Jackson stood with 72 of his closest friends and brothers in the wreckage of their clubhouse, taking cover where they could, armed to the tits with AKs and shotguns and handguns and knives. Anything and everything they could get their hands on. They were as prepared as they could be when Tig and company came barrelling through the gates.

The three brothers took cover, Tig finding space on the wall with Jax.

“Do I want to know?” Jax asked Tig, handing the man a shotgun he’d been saving for him.

“Nah. It’s what you think.”

They turned their attention back to the angry mob that was accumulating at their doorway. It didn’t take them long to break through the lock and chain set up they had at TM, and it was half a second later that they made their way into view and the Sons declared it open season in the parking lot.

They boys had grossly under guessed the manpower their opposing team could muster at any given notice. Tig had estimated less than forty people in the bar when they’d arrived to poop paint it, but somewhere between the bar and the shop the bad guys had amassed numbers near a hundred and fifty. Some of the faces were recognizable, some of the tats told stories. Then some of the faces seemed very long traveled. Perhaps the Sons weren’t the only ones with family in town.

Tig and Jax were split up almost immediately, one man going to the left and the other to the right, where the entrance to the club used to be. A gun in each hand gave them some advantage, each of the men clipping three or four members of the enemy as they ran for cover once more.

Opie was guarding Piney and Richard with six other members of extended branches, most hailing from Richard’s San Antonio charter. He was doing a fine job of keeping his old man and unrelated Uncle from open fire, but restraining Piney was an impossible task when he was without a friend to side with him. Keeping Piney AND Richard in lockdown was doubly difficult. They refused to hide out ‘like pansy asses’ in the cabin, and demanded that they fight alongside their brothers. No one liked the idea, but they weren’t going to fight against the two remaining founding members. So they sat like sitting ducks in the most secure and guarded spot the crew could find to stash them.

“This is crap.” Richard protested.

“We’re sitting here with targets on our foreheads.” Piney added for dramatic effect.

Opie let a shot ring from his shotgun before he answered his father.

“Be thankful you’re still breathing.”

“I’ll be thankful when I’m not being protected like I’m an endangered species.”

Richard laughed, the chuckle barely heard between the gunfire.

“Pier, we are an endangered species.”

Piney and Richard exchanged a look that only the pair of them understood. Opie didn’t notice the unspoken conversation they shared, and he was only half aware of what was going on behind his back as the two men broke free of their guard and rushed off deeper into the action. There was no controlling either of them.

Juice found solace with an AK and a switchblade near Bobby and a handful of other SOAers taking out members of the Triad, Nords and Mayans. They weren’t very well protected from fire, and a few of the unnamed men came to their tragic end amidst the rainstorm of bullets. Two of them Juice couldn’t name, the third he thought was Norman... Nathan... Nigel. He gritted his teeth and averted his eyes, pulling the trigger twice more and injuring another enemy.

Chibs remained in the cab of the truck, having found a small rust hole in the vehicles armour that allowed him enough room to see and manouver a semi-automatic handgun. The cab floor wasn’t comfortable to lie on, but it kept him well protected. He took out enemy after enemy, eliminating them from battle as the rest scurried around, trying to avoid the fire they were taking on.

Happy was a special case, having decided on his own to set up shop atop the TM garage with a sniper rifle he just happened to have in his possession. Jax didn’t question it when Happy brought it up. He was a secretive man sometimes, but his heart and his head were always in the right place. Happy was keeping count as he knocked off man after man. He smiled to himself as he watched a member of the Triad go down. There’d be a lot more happy faces in his future.

Unser sat quietly in an unassuming ten year old Chrysler across the street from the shop. Watching. The feds were still in town, and there was a good possibility they would turn up when word got out about the gang war that had broken out. He’d run interference when and where he could. Until then he’d sit quietly and watch the drama unfold.

Even with the club holding their own through their battle they weren’t without weak spots. The building wasn’t nearly as good a cover as Jax thought it would have been, and the evil doers were helping themselves to making it worse. The crew was fine with the enemy demolishing the building, but everything else was falling apart with it. The master plan turned out to be nothing more than another unattainable goal.

Much of the extended charters were novice when it came to large scale brawls. Most of the members were small time criminals, running guns and prostitutes and never coming across more than a ten person fist-fight in their lifetime. And by those standards, a lot of the Redwood Originals were pretty far off the mark as well.

It was Piney and Richard that took hold of the situation, heading up a half-baked post at Jackson’s starting point.

“If you head off near the tanker I can give you cover fire. Once I’m around the other side, we’ll pop around the sides and just take out the entire army.”

Richard liked Piney’s plan. He listened intently while he checked his weapon.

“Sounds like a go.” He agreed.

“Stand down Piney!” Jax yelled from half a mile behind him.

“Cram it kid. The men have business to attend to.”

“You’re signing your death warrant old man. Fall back before you get yourself killed!!” Jax insisted.

“Come on Pop!”

Opie’s voice was closer than Jax, or just louder, Piney couldn’t tell and Richard wasn’t paying close enough attention. They had a plan and were checking over their weapons. They were in their own little world where it was forty years ago and they were young and brave.

All Opie and Jax saw were two old men on a suicide mission.

Chibs had set the charges Piney had asked for. He didn’t dare refuse the old man. One in the cab under the dash and one on the back of the driver’s seat. He didn’t ask Piney where he got the C4 either.

Chibs wired both charges and set the first and second explosion to go off simultaneously. Piney wanted it big and scary, he was gonna get it big and scary. For Clay the old man had told him, and that was all he needed.

The door to the truck opened towards the club and TM and Chibs jumped out running.

“TAKE COVER!!” his accent rang.

No sooner had Chibs found some shelter next to Piney and Richard did the explosion detonate, the sound of metal shredding sending a jolt through all of those who were unprepared for it. It was the moment Piney and Richard had been waiting for.

 

The two men looked at each other once more, the distraction of the fireball in the parking lot taking the focus off of them for a second on both sides of the fence, counting down with their eyes. 3..2..1..

Jackson waved a hand at Happy, getting his attention and turning it to Piney and Richard. Happy helped give them cover fire as the two old men popped out from behind the security of their hide out and pushed forward, unleashing a sweep of gunfire on the enemy.

But they were still outnumbered, and it wasn’t more than half a second before the rivals turned their firepower towards the old men – their original targets.

It was like an old western standoff, both sides slowly approaching each other. Though their numbers had dwindled on both sides since they’d arrived, they were still bodies strong. And the enemy was still bodies stronger.

A moment of clarity washed over Piney and he slowed his roll. He dropped a step behind Richard, and that was all it took. Giovanni Cacuzza lined up a clear shot and delivered a bullet to Richard’s skull before the man could ask his brother what was up.

Richard crumpled to the ground in the least graceful way imaginable, his AK falling haphazardly to his side as his lifeless body pooled in his own brain matter and blood spatter.

Piney stood staring. Just staring.  
He was in complete shock at the turn of events. He’d always felt he and his brothers were invincible, even as his age crept up on him and he was forced to carry an oxygen tank around. He still fought in Vietnam. He was still a soldier. Only now he realized it was only at heart and in spirit. Now that his oldest brother was a pile of nothing at his feet.

The entirety of the enemy fire came to a crashing halt, and with it did the Sons. The rival gangs that made up the enemy waiting for word from their leader, and the Sons waiting on Piney’s next move.

Piney bent down, all the while awaiting his turn to join his best friend, his ally, his brother in combat and in life. Waiting for the final bullet that would end his life in the parking lot of the place he worked at. He leaned into what was left of Richard and used a hand to close his eyes as the tears battled their way to the surface. Once final shot blasted behind him as the sirens started in the distance and people started to flee.

Happy watched it all unfold from the comforts of the Teller-Morrow rooftop. The bullet that ended the life of Richard Harris had come at an angle, originating in the corner of the parking lot, behind a light blue Caprice Classic that was older than both of Happy’s teenage kids. He used the binoculars he’d brought in case of a circumstance similar to the one he was in now and waited until he’d spotted Giovanni, the Italian man adjusting his crouched stance to get a better view on the situation he’d created as Piney bent down towards his friend. Happy lined the shot up, taking aim on the man who murdered Richard and Clay, firing a shot that took the top of his skull and put it five feet behind him.

The battle was over just before the FBI arrived on scene.


	29. What Goes Around.....

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 29  
What Goes Around...

Jax was dumbfounded at how the moments played out. It was as if he had the world’s largest rabbit’s foot, a found penny and a four leaf clover. It just wasn’t possible for everything to work out so perfectly.  
They’d let every member of the Redwood Sons walk while arresting ever last living member of their enemy army. Hale took the baddies, cuffing them and placing them in a paddy wagon. They were hauled off in seconds.  
The Redwood Originals were taken to the station, three to a vehicle, and separated into individual interrogation rooms, Page and Plant opting to put some of the younger, tougher members into lock up when space started becoming an issue. The agents let the entirety of the extended charters remain free.

Jackson Teller was the last member of the Sons of Anarchy to be kept in holding. When Page had arrived to first speak with him he gave Jax the rundown, the real rundown. He let the man in on his secrets.  
Turned out Plant and Page weren’t really FBI. They weren’t even cops. They just had some beef with the Cacuzza’s and wanted Giovanni off their radar. They were quite pleased to have someone else handle the actual work for them. Turned out Giovanni was more trouble than either of them knew.  
They managed to come to an understanding, Jax and the pretend agent. They needed to keep up the ruse. Page & Plant so they weren’t arrested for impersonating federal agents, Jax and crew so they weren’t arrested for the war that had just ended. Jax managed to agree to the terms, provided they didn’t share their dirty little secret with the rest of the club. Jackson knew his brothers. Most of them wouldn’t take that kind of news so well.  
Page told Jax that he had seen some of the crew members home. The Oxygen Man and The Sniper were given a lift back almost immediately. Page scrunched his face when Jackson told him their names. He’d ask if they were their real names.  
The Fake Agent asked Jackson who should be released next, and it was kind of a no brainer. He’d asked for them to let Juice and Tig go free first. If Piney was already home he didn’t need to worry too much about him. Juice was tough, but the act he’d been putting on was wearing thin some days. Jax wasn’t sure how long Juice would last in lock up before everything that was weighing him down came crashing on him.  
And he’d been noticing Gemma and Tig.  
It was kind of hard not to.  
Tig never left Gemma’s house. He would long enough to be with the club. He hadn’t missed a second of revenging Clay’s death. But he hadn’t missed a moment with Jax’s mother either.  
Though Gemma was incredibly strong willed and stubborn, even Jax knew she’d always need someone. Someone to take care of her when she needed it. And if she chose Tig... well, Jax would learn to live with it.  
It had been the same when Clay started spending time with Gemma. Jackson hadn’t liked it in the slightest. Clay had been voted President and been made Step-Father in the same week. It had been obvious to everyone, including John Teller – as he had mentioned it to his fifteen year old son – that Gemma and Clay had been together long before John’s death. That betrayal of trust between brothers would never be repaired, but Jax learned to live with it. Because it’s what Gemma wanted.  
He could live with what Gemma wanted.  
At least one Teller could be happy.


	30. Something Beautiful

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 30  
Something Beautiful

The squad car had dropped Tig off at the shop. He waited until they were out of the parking lot before he hopped on his bike, go bag strapped to his back, and drove off towards Gemma’s house.  
He didn’t want her to worry. The thought was best disregarded, Gemma was gonna worry, there was no avoiding it. Tig was sure Piney had called her already, but Gemma would want more information than Piney would give. And Tig just really needed to see her.

There were no other bikes or cars in the driveway when Tig pulled up on his Harley. The sun had started to set moments ago, creating a brilliant orange glow around the home Gemma resided in. Tig smiled, taking in a long breath as he dismounted his bike and headed towards the front door, the mahogany piece of art swinging open as he approached.  
Gemma let the door go and took Tig in her arms, trying desperately to squeeze the relief and love she had into him. Tears of joy ran down her cheek as she held him close. She’d heard from Piney that the crew were still intact, but she couldn’t let herself believe it until she’d seen. Tig was covered in a layer of dirt and sweat, but he was alive.  
Gemma had asked about Jax in a breathless whisper once she found the strength to speak. Tig explained they were still holding him for questioning, and that he’d probably be the last to be released, but that he’d spoken to Jax before he left the station. He passed the message onto Gemma, that Jackson had told him to tell her he was fine and everything was going to be alright, that Jax would explain it all tomorrow. He himself wasn’t sure what Jax was insinuating, but he seemed calm and that he was sure of himself. That was enough for Tig to believe him.  
After a few moments Gemma invited Tig inside and made dinner while he showered. Pasta with a spicy marinara sauce, homemade meatballs and Italian bread. All the things she knew Tig couldn’t resist. And he didn’t either, eating until he was Thanksgiving Dinner stuffed. He was thankful for the sweatpants he’d packed.  
Gemma didn’t hesitate in clearing the table as Tig relaxed back into the chair, rubbing his distended stomach. Gemma began hand washing the pile up of dishes as Tig watched and thought.  
He never in his life felt the need for a woman the way he felt it for Gemma. He’d only ever regarded the ones who’d crossed his path in a primal way. But Gemma was different. Gemma was special. He felt a passion for her. A desire to just be around her, near her. To hold her. To breath in her scent on a constant basis. To protect her.  
He’d always cared for Gemma, from the time he met her, but never in such a strong way. He could feel the physical pull in his chest. Tig’s heart tugging him towards her.

Gemma wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but she wasn’t as strong as she appeared. She’d always had a man in her life to protect her, whether she needed it or not. First Mac, then John, then Clay. She’d always had a strong, smart man to stand alongside her. She’d not been without a boyfriend or husband since she was fourteen.  
She felt a wreck without that support. She didn’t want to. She so desperately wanted to be strong for herself, for her family and the club. If she knew how to she would be. But she missed the company. The comfort and warmth of someone who really knew her, and cared for her. She wondered if she’d ever find that kind of passion and trust. She wondered if she’d find it in Tig.

Tig thought about Clay. He truly missed his friend. He felt almost like a puppy without an owner. He had realized as he fought flanking Jax just how much things had already changed, and how much more changing there was to do. The club would certainly vote Jackson Teller the next President, and after the heroics he displayed over the last few weeks he deserved it, he’d proved to the club he could handle the pressure of the position. And Jax would almost definitely nominate Opie to be his right hand man, a thought that worried the aging Tig. He thought he could handle whatever change would come, as long as it meant he didn’t lose what he had with the club.  
Tig rose from his seat, picking up the last of the bread and tomatoes that was on the table and wrapping it up before putting it in the fridge. He helped dry the dishes, as he usually did. Gemma washed the last pot and held it out for Tig to take, keeping her grip on it when he did too. She looked up at him solemnly, asking him with one word like she had every other night for the last few weeks.  
“Stay?”  
As if she even had to ask anymore.  
“’Course.”  
Gemma put a hand on his shoulder in thanks, getting him a beer from the fridge. Tig took his place on the couch while Gemma had a shower, the same routine every night.  
She arrived back in the living room in a purple silk men’s style pyjama set and took a spot on the couch, curling into Tig as he watched an episode of Nova on PBS.  
He was shocked at Gemma’s found sense of people. Every day since Clay’s death – with the exception of her drunken advances – she’d never touched him. No more than a gentle, friendly hug. Now she was body to body against him, head resting on his chest over his heart. Tig discovered instincts he didn’t have and wrapped an arm around her, letting himself linger in the sweet scents of vanilla and honey that played in her hair and on her skin. She was warm and soft to the touch. Gemma melted Tig’s heart and set his soul on fire. She listened to his heart beat steadily, if a little fast.  
“I didn’t know you liked science.” Was all she said.  
They watched as chemicals were mixed and reacted and listened while scientist in lab coats explained the mysteries of minerals for two hours, Gemma disconnected from it all while Tig thoroughly enjoyed it. She patted his thigh as she rose from the couch, telling him she was going to bed. Tig gave her a moment before following.  
She’d had a set routine for this time of night. Fifteen minutes in the bathroom brushing her teeth and doing whatever else needed doing before crawling under the covers. Tig would wait, sitting in the chair next to the nightstand on the other side of the bed, until she was settled before taking his place on top of the comforter.   
Tonight wasn’t much different.  
Tig waited in his place, and Gemma finished up in the bathroom, taking her time before opening the door.  
She climbed into the kind sized bed, pulling the covers up and tucking them under her arms as she always did. But Tig stood from the chair and Gemma reached for the comforter closer to him, pulling it back and exposing the fitted sheet beneath the blankets.  
Tig froze in an instant, looking steadily at the bed for a minute before turning his gaze to Gemma.  
They didn’t need words to communicate. He knew what she was asking, and he wanted to be sure she really wanted it, not only for her sake but for his. Once he let her in there was no way she was getting out.  
And that was exactly what she wanted.  
Tig moved at a resistant speed, giving Gemma every chance she could possibly need to change her mind, as he crept into the bed, between the sheets.  
He slid his right leg in, then the left, watching Gemma wait patiently in his peripherals. Tig pulled the sheets up to his waist as he laid back, resting his head gingerly on the pillow. Gemma closed the gap between them, sliding into Tig and curling around him. She rested her head on the other side of his chest this time and he put his arm back around her.  
Tig felt the warmth of her cheek on his chest and his heart rate picked up again. He kissed the top of her head as she fussed slightly, trying to get used to the feeling having Tig gave her.  
She raised her head to look at him, their eyes locking in an emotion they hadn’t shared before.  
Gemma stretched up to him as Tig bent his head down, their lips touching tenderly, quietly, remaining together that way in a lingering sensation that burned through both of them. They were more intertwined than either of them knew.  
Body and soul.  
Eventually Gemma regretfully released him, putting her head back down and closing her eyes at the insistence of sleep, her ears catching Tig’s last words as she drifted out.  
“Love you precious Gemma.”  
She smiled against him, Tig feeling the sensation and smiling with her while she struggled to speak before she lost consciousness.  
“Love you too Tigger.”


	31. It All Seems Fine

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 31  
It All Seems Fine

Juice arrived home via squad car as well, it dropping him off at the bottom of the stairs to his apartment. The one Diana would be waiting in.  
He trudged up the steps, taking his time, preparing to face her after the final battle in the struggle of the last few weeks.  
Juice knew she’d have questions for him. She always did. And he didn’t blame her for wanting to know. He was always coming home covered in blood, quiet from whatever experience he’d just been a part of. Shootouts, arrests, close calls, murders. She’d witnessed him at his worst from it and yet rarely fought him to know about it. She held her own through it, helping Juice anyway she could. To repair him from the damage being a part of the club was causing.  
And he couldn’t deny it was causing damage.  
He loved his brothers. He truly did. He’d grown up an only child to a single mother who was so heavily into her own drug use she barely noticed him. Juice liked being part of a family. An actual family. He’d come to rely on his brothers, and he enjoyed them needing him. But he relied on Diana too, to keep him from the brink the club was forever driving him to. He needed the loving support she provided, the home he’d never had.  
Juice had stopped at the top of the steps, taking a deep breath as he unlocked the front door and let himself in.

The place was quiet. No video games being played, no music drifting from the stereo, no television talking back to him. No sound whatsoever. For a moment, just one, he thought he was alone.  
Then he heard movement, and saw her emerge from the kitchen to greet him.

Diana’s face expressed a sombre energy. She was worried for him more than usual. And he knew it.  
Juice gave her a small smile to go with the ‘hello’ he offered as he closed the door behind him and took his shoes off. Diana approached and took his face in her hands, pulling his attention to her a she stared into his eyes.  
He could try if he wanted to but it was pointless. She could tell he was distraught. And from what little Piney told her, she had a feeling he was hiding worse than that.  
Diana smiled, hoping to break the ice she felt building, hoping Juice would close off and shut down on her. She stood on her toes to kiss him. It was quick. Soft and gentle, but it let him know she was there. That he wasn’t alone.  
“Hey babe. Welcome home.”  
Juice brought her into his arms, squeezing her just below her pain threshold. She let him, not complaining that he was covered in a fine mixture of blood, dirt and sweat.  
Diana had to pat him on the back to get him to release her so she could breathe. Neither one of them spoke. Juice simply kissed her forehead and made his way to the bathroom. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard the shower kick in. Yeah whatever it was was bothering him, but he’d be alright.  
She had started dinner without knowing if he’d be home for it. Anything to keep her mind occupied and her hands busy. Diana had chopped a garden full of vegetables and starting boiling water for soup. A tedious hobby of hers. She’s also started a roast in the oven, the two scents mingling together in the enclosed space of the kitchen. It’d been hours since she started fiddling in the kitchen, putting a variety of different things into the boiling pot and constantly checking on the meat in the oven.

Juice had smelled it the second he’d entered the apartment. Food, and probably lots of it. His nose told him there’s be soup for days – which he greatly enjoyed – and some type of beef. Probably a roast, as Diana liked to serve the two together. He made sure he didn’t waste time just standing under the burning hot water that was scorching his skin. He cleaned and dressed himself in his most comfortable jeans and a white t-shirt before exiting the bathroom and facing his fears.

Diana smiled at him as he entered the kitchen. She had taken two bottles of beer from the fridge and set them at the table. Dinner was already dished out. Juice sat down in his usual seat and Diana followed, taking up across from him. They exchanged a smile before digging in. They ate in total silence, Diana thinking it was nice just to have him there, Juice thinking a hell of a lot more.  
She hadn’t once asked him about what had happened since he’d come in. It was obvious she wanted to know, needed to know, if only to make certain Juice was alright. She’d stuck it out with him. Through good times and bad. Diana was always there to pick him up when he was down. And she’d stayed through some of his darkest moments. Through the drugs, the arrests, the jail time. She’d even forgive him for the indiscretions. His heart pounded out to her across the table.

Diana wanted to start the dishes after they’d finished eating, but Juice insisted they be left for later, even promised to do them himself.  
He reached for her hand as she turned away, wanting to love towards the sink. His fingers pulled on hers until she was turned back to face him, his face longing.  
“I’m gonna go sit on the couch. I want you to come with me. Please.”  
She couldn’t resist him.

Juice sat and pulled Diana down next to him, wrapping an arm around her and angling her so she couldn’t see his face. He waited until they were both settled.  
“There were more of them than we’d expected. I managed to set myself up in a good spot where I had cover and I could still take them out...”  
Diana was quiet. It took a moment for her to piece together what he was talking about. Her heart broke for him, and for how hard it was to recount the events...  
“We lost people on both sides. A few members from other charters, most of which I couldn’t name. One guy... I think his name was Norman – might have been Nigel...- dropped right next to me. Took four bullets to the chest. Four bullets and I’m not even sure what his name was...”  
Diana started to cry, unable to stop the tears. She didn’t want to know if he didn’t want to tell her. If it was too hard for him then she’d live with not knowing. She tried to stop him,  
“Babe,” Diana repositioned herself to face him. “I appreciate why you’re doing this for me, but if it’s too hard for you to-“  
but Juice refused to let her keep him from telling the story.  
“I’m okay baby. You want to know, I want you to know.”  
She remained quiet and he continued.  
“We tried to keep Piney and Richard safe, but they were determined to work their own plan. They blew up a sewage truck. And then Giovanni Cacuzza shot Richard. Killed him. Then one of our guys killed Giovanni. Then the feds showed up and took everyone in.”  
Everything Juice said came out disconnected, as if he was recalling something he’d watched on television and he was trying hard to concentrate on getting it right. Diana waited for him to continue but he was finished.  
“That’s what happened this afternoon?”  
“That’s what happened this afternoon.”  
She found it odd that it didn’t affect her, all the carnage that Juice had witnessed. The people he’d probably killed a handful of hours ago. All the things she still didn’t know about. It didn’t matter what he had done. It only mattered that he was alright, and that he was alright with it.  
Diana rested her left hand on Juice’s cheek and he leaned into her touch, as he always had, closing his eyes to her gentle response.  
“I don’t care. Doesn’t matter what you did or what happened. As long as you’re okay. I just need to know that you’re alright.”  
Juice moved beneath her, taking her hand from his face. He reached for his pocket as he began to speak.  
“I love you. I know you know I love you, but I don’t think you know how much I really appreciate everything you do. How you put up with me when I’m not at my best, like the day Clay was killed. Times when I can’t cope, you’re always there to pull me through it. No one’s ever been there for me like that. I can’t express what that means to me. That you care for me that much.”  
Juice took a ring from his pocket. It looked old, worn, but precious. As if it had seen the world once before it was kept hidden from it.  
“This is the only thing I have left from my mother. It had belonged to my Nana before that. My Granddad gave it to her when he asked her to marry him. I want you to have it, if you’ll have me. Marry me Diana. Be mine forever.”

“Breathe baby.”  
Time had lapsed, how much she wasn’t sure. Juice had asked her to marry him and everything froze.  
He looked frightened, hold her tight and jostling her back to reality.  
“What happened.” Diana asked, eyes wide and unfocused.  
“Well... I asked you to marry me and then you stopped breathing. That was about three minutes ago.”  
“Oh.”  
“Are you okay babe?” Juice was concerned.  
“What did I say?”  
Juice hesitated before he told her.  
“Nothing. You haven’t answered me yet.”  
“Oh.” She repeated herself.  
“And I’m getting concerned.”  
Diana was still distant, as if she was thinking about it. Juice’s heart started to race and his breathing became heavier. If there was even a chance that she was going to say no...  
She took his face with both of her hands and touched her forehead to his as he held back the tears with all the strength he had left. Diana let out a soft sigh before speaking, her voice a gentle breeze caressing his skin.  
“I love you baby, of course I’m gonna marry you. Now, put the ring on my finger and get your ass in the bedroom.”  
Diana leaned into his, whispering in his ear a preview of what was to come, before giving him room to get up.  
Instead he wrapped his arms around her, running his hands down her back while pushing her down onto the couch. His lips attacked her with animalistic intent. There was no moving it to the bedroom.  
A part of Diana was sad. The couch wasn’t going to survive what she had in mind.


	32. Don't Worry (Alone Again, Naturally.)

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 32  
Don’t Worry

Happy left the station intending to walk home. The young officer assigned to drive him was terrified of the toweringly buff, tattooed man and cowered back inside the station at Happy’s insistence. Happy resided in a two bedroom apartment across town. It would take him the better part of an hour to hoof it there, but he desired the fresh air and exercise.  
There was something about Happy’s quiet personality that made people who didn’t know him think he was a psychopath. That he didn’t feel, or what he did didn’t register with him.  
And he couldn’t deny that there was a part of him that was disconnected from the things he felt weren’t important, but that didn’t mean he was unfeeling.  
What he did, whatever he decided to do, it was a part of him. A process of thought went into every action, even the ones that felt reflexive.  
It wasn’t that killing Giovanni Cacuzza didn’t register with him, it was that he felt it a necessary action to prevent the deaths of more of his brothers. It needed to be done to protect his family and he did it. He didn’t see that as unfeeling.  
Happy wasn’t immune to the after effects of the war either. He was hurt at the loss of Richard, just as he was that of Clay. It pained him to see his brothers’ fall in battle, for their lives to be cut short. Just because he didn’t let it show didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. The sadness, the upset, the loss. It was all a part of him, a part that he buried beneath the brick wall exterior that was his persona.  
Happy ignored the way those feelings wanted to creep to the surface and thought about getting home, where his kids would be. Playing video games, listening to music, arguing about something ridiculous. He loved his kids, and loved his time with them, even if they were constantly fighting when they were over.  
He thought about the commotion he was bound to encounter when he opened the door as he opened the door to his apartment building. The sounds of his daughter’s voice forcing the tears that she thought gave her an advantage over her brother, and the older of his two teenage kids telling him how she was lying again with an angry snarl that reminded Happy of a younger version of himself. Whatever they fought about didn’t bother Happy. They were communicating, which was more than he could say of himself at that age.  
Happy took the stairs to the fourth floor and unlocked the door to his apartment. It wasn’t until he’d closed it again that he noticed the silence.  
The place was deserted. The sound of nothing echoed through the medium sized open concept flat. The lights through the place were off, leaving it eerily dark. His daughter would have gone for conserving the energy if it meant she couldn’t see from one side of the apartment to the other.  
Happy took his shoes off at the door and took a left towards the kitchen before he turned a light on. He’d opened the fridge for a beer before he noticed the hastily written note on the counter. He read it to himself.  
‘Dad, gone to Kevin’s for the night with some of the guys. Kelly’s gone back to Mom’s. Said she wouldn’t stay here alone. See you again in three weeks. Shaun.’

Happy put the note back down on the counter and stood looking at this dark, empty, quiet dwelling as he rubbed the spot over his heart where both his kid’s names were inked.  
He was alone again.  
Naturally.


	33. Make It 'Til Monday

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 33  
Make It Til Monday

Bobby arrived home to a typically empty house, his cat Sugar rushing to meet him. The tabby stopped short of her owner, catching a good whiff of what he was covered in from where she stood before scurrying to bury her head in the soft foam bed Bobby had put in the corner of the living room for her. He didn’t even question it, he was desperate for a shower.

It wasn’t until he was under the pressure of the showerhead that he realized how badly he’d been hurt in the line of duty. A large gash cut straight across his arm, deep enough that the gouge appeared as a gorge, slicing through the skin, fat and into the muscle. The hot water stung as it ran over the gash, mixing with the blood that was now trickling from it again. Bobby clenched his teeth as he cleaned it, making sure it was free of any dirt or germs that might lurk in the wound. He would sew it up himself once he was out of the shower and dried off.  
Other cuts he noticed were minor, and not worth the band-aid to cover them in most instances. A bruise had started on his shin, but that could have been from hitting it on his coffee table as much as it could have been from the afternoon shoot out. He tended to his wounds carefully before finding is way out to the kitchen, where Sugar sat waiting for him.  
Bobby picked the tabby up and held her while he pet the cat. She curled her head under his chin and rubbed her face on his t-shirt as she purred.  
“How ‘bout some grub Sugar.”  
Bobby opened a tin of Meow Mix and dumped it on a plate for the animal. Sugar was all too pleased and the starving animal went to town on her tuna surprise.

Bobby noticed his answering machine blinking a 3 at him in time and pressed the triangular ‘play’ button as he glanced over the pile of bills on the table.  
“FIRST. MESSAGE.” The machine began.  
Very quickly an older woman’s voice came on the line, and from the second she spoke in her hurried and agitated tone, he knew it was his second wife.  
“Bobby for chrissakes... Listen, I need cash to get the kids their prescriptions. And it’s been almost two months since I’ve seen anything in the way of child support. I can’t afford the new inhalers the docs saying they need. Call me back dammit.”  
There was a hard click as if she’d slammed the phone down. She probably had.  
Bobby picked the pile of bills off the table, sorting them into categories. Past Due, Warning and Final Notice.

“NEXT. MESSAGE.”  
“Robert, Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Bobby’s first wife hollered through the phone. “Why the fuck am I getting phone calls from the FB fuckin’ I questioning me about the worst time in my life!? I don’t know what kind of goddamn trouble you’ve gotten yourself into now and I couldn’t give a shit less if they lock you up for all eternity. Maybe then I’d see some of the alimony money you’ve NOT been sending. If I wanted to rehash my marriage to you I’m not going to do it with the fuckin’ government. Go to hell Robert.”  
The click that ended the second call came in the form of a sophisticated beep. She was probably calling her cell phone while her and her Lexus were stuck in traffic.  
Bobby disregarded the bills and looked to his tabby.  
“Must be nice to be you huh.” He said aloud as the tape continued to play.

“NEXT. MESSAGE.”  
“Mr. Munson? My name is Rachel McCreary. Madison Jones gave me your number. You did an Elvis-Theme party for her a few months back and she said you were great with the kids. I was looking to book you for my son’s eighth three Saturdays from now, the 18th? If you’re available? I’d soo greatly appreciate it if you could give me a call back at your earliest convenience.”

Rachel’s voice was a comfortable change from the first two, and Bobby quickly punched in the numbers as she rattled them off. If it meant extra cash, he’d be available.  
Bobby watched Sugar as she cleared the plate in front of her and plopped down to lick her paws.  
“Must be nice.” Bobby muttered again, getting the machine at the McCreary household.


	34. Matters of The Heart in a McDonald's Parking Lot

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 34  
Matters of The Heart in A McDonald’s Parking Lot

Chibs was the penultimate Son to leave the station, with Jax still in the interrogation room – even though he didn’t know it. Special Agent Plant escorted Chibs back to TM and his beloved Harley. He cursed and banged on the back of the ‘agent’s’ seat the entire ride. Chibs was hardcore, potentially the most frightening member of the club. When it came to terrifying pasts the club was riddled with horror stories. But Chibs’ life with the IRA out-scared any story about running guns and burying bodies.  
He jumped on his bike and revved the engine, helmet still strapped to the seat behind him. He was starving and wanted nothing but a burger and ten minutes to himself.  
Chibs pulled into the nearest McDonald’s, twenty minutes outside town just off the highway.  
He clashed with the crowd that frequented the establishment. Most were families passing through – like the group of four that were sitting at the picnic table across from where he’d parked.  
Chibs was a regular at the restaurant, and smiled at the girl working the counter when he arrived. She recognized him from the last several times he’d been in to order and asked if he wanted the usual. He replied in a friendly manner and she punched in his three Big Macs while Chibs rooted through his wallet for a ten.

 

Chibs left the building, bag in hand, and took a seat against his bike, leaning on the Harley with his legs crossed at his ankles. He looked relaxed as he ate his dinner. Not threatening at all.

The seven year old girl eating with her parents and younger sister didn’t find him threatening. That’s not why she was staring at him as she ate her ice cream. She continued to watch the man with the leather vest even after her father tried to discourage her curious nature. Telling her he was dangerous didn’t detract her attention, it only fuelled the fire. She loved to learn about people, and this was the most interesting person she’d ever seen.

Chibs noticed he was being watched, not only by the child but by her parents too. In fact, every person who passed through the McDonald’s took stock of the man and the motorcycle, and not one of them did so in a casual way.  
Except the girl.

She watched Chibs with a curiosity that reminded him of his own daughter. How she would watch him about the house with an odd quizzical expression, always wondering, and Chibs praying that she just wouldn’t ask.  
Even at such a young age, he could tell his daughter was trying to piece things together. Why they moved a lot. Why Daddy was always covered in blood when he came home. Why he and Mommy would whisper when she was around. Why they would yell at each other when they thought she wasn’t listening. She had been six when Fiona finally packed up and left him.  
The little girl turned her head to her father, breaking the stare she had Chibs fixated in. She spoke a few words as he did to her and the family started to rise from their seats. The mother took the girl’s hand and started cleaning up the picnic table while the father took the younger daughter towards the car. He walked right passed Chibs without a second glance.  
But the other girl seemed to have plans of her own.

Chibs didn’t see the interaction the girl had with her mother. He was in his own world, thinking about his daughter, when he felt a tapping on his leg just above his knee.  
“Mister?” she called him innocently.  
Chibs looked to the girl, noticing her blue eyes gazing up at him in an inquisitive manner. He looked to her but didn’t speak.  
“Do you want to die?”  
He noticed the mother approaching quickly, and angrily. He didn’t think long about the question.  
“What?”  
“I’m sorry,” the mother spoke, taking the girl’s hand in a fury. “She has an unnatural curiosity about death. Terribly sorry.”  
The mother was tugging at the little girl who seemed anxious for an answer. Chibs waved the situation off, as if it were normal.  
“It’s alright.” He smiled, adjusting himself to the daughter’s level. “My daughter was the same way at that age. Why do you ask?” Chibs directed the last part to the girl.  
“My Daddy says you’re dangerous.”  
The mother blushed and turned her head. Embarrassed.  
“Do you think I’m dangerous?”  
“I think you’re a stranger.”  
The little girl was smart. Chibs figured if the conversation went on too long she might out-wit him. He tried to cut to the chase.  
“Why do you ask if I want to die?”  
“You don’t wear your helmet. You could fall off your bike and hurt your head. Mommy says you could die if you don’t wear your helmet when you ride your bike.”  
“Mommy’s right.”  
“But you weren’t wearing it. Why?”  
Chibs shrugged. He honestl hadn't thought about it.  
“I forgot.”  
The little girl seemed disappointed in him, as if she’d tried that excuse and it hadn’t worked. He saw her bite her bottom lip and scrunch her eyebrows down and his heart sank a little, remembering how his daughter had made that face once or twice when she was thinking really hard about the words she wanted to use.  
“But I’ll make sure I wear it every time from now on, alright?”  
She smiled, sticking out her free hand to shake his.  
“My name’s Kasey.” She offered, the mother looking toward her husband, shaking her head in an unknowing manner.  
Chibs gave his hand back, shaking hers gently.  
“My name’s Filip.”  
She smiled again.  
“Now we’re not strangers. By Filip.”  
The little girl left her mother standing by the bike as she took off toward the minivan her father was waiting beside. The mother looked upset with her daughter and disappointedly angry with her husband.  
“I’m so sorry.” She said once more, heading back to the car with a disgruntled look on her face about her husband’s actions as Chibs waved off the mother’s apologies and saluted the family at the van.

He watched them drive off as he put his paper bag full of garbage into the bin at the door.  
Chibs approached the bike again and unlatched the helmet from the seat behind him, strapping it to his head as he got on the hog and started it up. He thought about what the little girl had said, and imagined his daughter telling him the same thing.  
He sped off into the dusk of the night, thinking about his daughter and trying desperately to hold back the tears.


	35. Fix You

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 35  
Fix You

Opie arrived home as Chibs pulled into the McDonald’s, having ridden his bike from the shop back to the home he shared with Jo and his kids. He thought about her as she appeared in the front room window, the sound of the Dina drawing her attention outside. She smiled a sigh of relief and he smiled in turn. Opie took his helmet off and approached the front door.

He thought about how he and Jo came to be and how they seemed to mesh together so well. She was a true joy to be with. She made him laugh when he needed it most, kept him smiling when times got tougher and held him together when he was falling to pieces. She adored his children and spent most of her time taking care of them while he was out being a bad boy, all the while never asking a single thing in return. How any one person could be so selfless was beyond his reasoning. Opie had taken a hit for the greater good before, but to do it on a day to day basis without ever asking anything in return. Jo was his Wonder Woman.

She greeted him at the door with an embrace warmer than the sun, but her bliss didn’t overpower the groan Opie tried to hide. When she attempted to release him his shirt sleeve stuck to hers. He wouldn’t be able to hide it any longer.

Jo didn’t even look to the half dry red stain on Opie’s shirt. She kept her eyes on his, a longing look of disappointment crossed his face. She knew he was trying to hide it, to keep her from worrying. He knew she saw right through it all.

“C’mon,” she gestured to inside the house. “Lets get you patched up."

Jo led Opie towards the bathroom. He thought it might have been a problem, sneaking past the kids, but it turned out it wasn’t. SpongeBob held their attention like a magnet. They had no interest in seeing their father.

Jo sat Opie down on the edge of the bathtub as he fixed to pull the medical kit from the top shelf just outside the door. Opie smiled as she stretched, taking her in as her shirt raised in the back some, revealing the odd flaming star symbol she had tattooed there. She recognised the light in his eyes as she re-entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her. He was fine alright.

“Your dad called, talked to the kids. Told them you were at the club with their Uncle Jax working on something. They don’t know what happened.”

Opie retreated back inside himself for a minute, thinking about his dad and his kids as Jo slowly pulled Opie’s cut and shirt off.

“I don’t want them to know.”

“Then they never will. Could you – yeah.”

Opie turned his arm out for her, letting Jo have a better look before going back to the med kit she’d stolen from a hospital in Reno a few years back.

He had asked her about her past once. She tried to be honest with him, and for the most part she had been, but her situation was much like his. She explained that she had ‘hunted evil sons of bitches’ for a living before she met him. Opie had taken that to mean hard core criminals. It explained her connections to the law and how she was able to swing things like getting them past border checkpoints. He hadn’t asked her much beyond that. Just like she didn’t need to know too much about what was going on with the club. Opie still told her everything though.

“I didn’t realize I’d been shot until an hour after they brought us in.”

Jo stopped to look at Opie, his eyes distant again. So often he’d trail away into his mind. Thinking about something again and choosing his words selectively. She waited and let him continue at his own pace, pulling a pair of long handled tweezers from the pack and placing Opie’s hand on her hip.

“I was in lock up, in the cell across from Tig. They let that bastard out first too, shit for brains and a horseshoe up his ass. He told me he’d let Gemma know what went down. Then pointed to my arm. I didn’t even feel it baby. Not when it happened, not after. Not until Tig told me I was hurt.”

Jo dug into his arm carefully and Opie tightened his grip on her. She eased up on the prodding until he relaxed a little. He kept a firm hand on her hip as she searched for the projectile. Opie squeezed her as the pain worsened and rubbed the spot where the bruise on her hip would no doubt be when the pressure slipped away. It took a few moments, but Jo did finally get the bullet out. She placed it on the counter and retrieved the bandaged from the kit as he spoke once more.

“What does that say about me.”

When Jo turned around again, Opie was looking at his hands and picking the blood from his nails. His face emoted the sadness that he kept bottled up and the horror that came with believing he was an emotionless robot.

She crept closer to him, patching his arm with the bandage from the kit. She let him think through his mess of thoughts before she brought his face to meet hers. She waited until he locked eyes with her before she spoke.

“It says you’re strong baby. That you know in your heart what needs to be done and you do it. You’re so certain of Right and Wrong, more so than most. That’s why you make hard decisions in split seconds. You’re not a monster if that’s what you’re thinking. You have compassion.”

Opie closed his eyes, unable to look at Jo while she spoke to him. She bent down, kneeling between his knees and taking his face in her hands. He let a small tear escape him as he breathed.  
“Why are you so good to me Joanna.”

She smiled and leaned in closer, kissing him tenderly before placing a hand on his chest.

“Because you have a heart of gold.”

He let a sigh of laughter out and Jo ignored him brushing the truth off as if she’d just said it to make him feel better. He wasn’t going to admit that everything she said was true and she wasn’t going to fight him on it. They loved each other more than any words could express. They kissed again, if only briefly. The sound of children shouting burst from the living room as a remote was dropped onto the floor. SpongeBob was ending and the daily iCarly versus Wrestling argument was starting.

Jo was ready to get up and handle the situation, but Opie held her back. He looked to her again, searching for the reluctant expression he expected to find at the thought of having to break up a fight between two kids that weren’t hers. But all he found was a sparkle and a smirk.

“What?” she finally asked.

“Thank you baby.” Opie grinned ear to ear, letting her have her hand back as he rose from the edge of the tub. She smiled back but still didn’t know why.

“For what?” she asked him as he reached the bathroom door.

All Opie could do was shake his head. She had made his house a home again and didn’t even know it. How was he to tell her that.

“Everything.” Was what he decided on, leaving the room as he did, setting his kids straight with a few choice words and leaving Jo to tidy the mess fixing Opie usually entailed.


	36. Last of The First

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 36  
Last Of The First

 

Piney was trying to keep himself from reeling, but his efforts, or what little efforts he gave, were in vain. He used the wall of the morgue to keep himself upright in his seat, unable to leave his friend alone in cold storage.

He’d identified Richard’s body for the coroner, and if that wasn’t tough enough Piney made the call to his wife Wanda to tell her the news. It was the first time in a long time he’d had a good cry about anything.

Piney spent quite a bit of his solitude thinking back on the good times he had with Richard. They had become fast friends when Piney and John were in Vietnam and it seemed a natural choice to ask him to be part of the Sons when they returned from war in the late sixties. Richard hadn’t hesitated his yes, at that moment or any afterward.

They shared the same view on almost every subject, and laughed at the few dissimilar notions they came across. Both wanted to change the world for the better, but neither really knew how to do it. They relied on the rest of the club to help steer the ship Piney and John created in the right direction. They ended up fighting alongside each other in California the way they had half the world away in no time, the club drifting ever southward for the last few decades.

That was one of the reasons why Richard had left. He’d made the hard choice what seemed like centuries earlier. To leave behind the men he’d become a man with. To separate himself from his brothers and start a charter of his own in Texas. A place where he could start a family and enjoy the rest of his life with some semblance of peace and quiet. All of which didn’t last long. It was hard to break free of something that was a part of you. Gun running in particular. Once it was in your veins it was hard to kick it, and though Richard gave a valiant effort, the lure was too great. He had always been an excellent gun runner, an expert marksman when it came to trade negotiations and – incidentally – when it came to sniper kills.

For two men who’d sworn to change the world with peace they sure did their fair share of killing.

Richard had also been a fast talker, having gotten the crew out of many a jam in the years Piney had been his brother. Putting him at huge risk most of those times. He was constantly crossing the line of fire, approaching people with an air of confidence when they had a gun pointed on him. As if he were bulletproof. Indestructible. He just didn’t believe for one second that anything would ever happen to him. Piney remembered a conversation they’d had one night once Richard had decided to leave for Texas. ‘Shit, ‘Nam didn’t kill me. Suppose nothin’ can.’ Piney had agreed with him then.

Now, not so much.

It had occurred to him in passing, along with a slew of other things, but the thought was u-turning back to him. Of the First 9 that founded the Sons, Piney was the last one left. Last of the First 9. It had a horrible ring to it.

Life seemed to be doing that to him lately. Of all the people Piney had considered to be his close friends through his life, he was one of a few still standing. Most of the soldiers he’d had the honor to have fought with were either lost during the war or lost in the system upon their return. The few that managed to carve a life out for themselves had either drifted away over time or had died of old age or gunshot wounds.

Even his family had fallen apart. Piney’s wife had left him and his son had been absorbed into the life of crime his father led. A life that saw his daughter-in-law’s brains spread out through the inside of the truck she was driving, leaving Piney’s grandkids motherless. Sure, they had Jo now, and he adored the girl like a daughter, but it didn’t stop those kids from experiencing a tragedy they didn’t have to face.

It only seemed fitting that the club have its turn. He hadn’t seen Clay’s demise coming, and though he’d had his share of fistfights with the man during their friendship, it had always remained a friendship. The good moments had always outshined the bad and Piney hadn’t forgotten that. Clay’s death wasn’t lost on him. He’d always grieve for Clay, in the same way he did for John, never forgetting the brotherhood they shared, and the friendships they founded it on. But Richard’s death broke the old man’s heart.

Piney had never been closer to another human being in all of his existence. John, Piney and Richard were the Three Musketeers, The Three Stooges and any other popular combination of three you could come up with. In the trenches they were referred to as Larry, Curly and Moe, the three of them keeping the men alive and on their toes – giving them a laugh at every turn that they could muster.

Things didn’t change much when they returned home from over the ocean. They still laughed their way through sticky situations, still kept their brothers on their toes, still kept them breathing when by all rights they should have died. Still looked out for one another.

Richard and Piney had grown closer at the loss of John, the three of them never thinking about their own demise – just trying to keep everyone else form theirs. Their bond was unbreakably strong – even when they lived states apart. Calling on each other when they needed to. Piney taking off to San Antonio for a few weeks when Richard needed a hand negotiating some business with an old former army buddy, and Richard in turn making the trek back at the word of Opie’s arrest.

The entirety of the day’s events left Piney with a hollow feeling. He cried to himself, tears of sadness and fear. Things were changing and he would undoubtedly be out of place and left behind. He was the old man of the club, in more ways than one. He was the eldest member, the only remaining First 9, Opie’s dad and the only guy in the history of the club to require an oxygen tank for the simplest of activities. Piney was becoming more of a liability than as asset, and every day that went by made him one day closer to being asked to retire.

Or forced.

Piney found himself wondering which was worse.

He knew he wouldn’t last much longer with the likes of his brothers. Not with the club going in the direction it was headed.

No doubt they’d vote Jax as President. The kid deserved it for handling the last few weeks the way he had. For certain he’d offer Opie the spot of right hand man. Whether Opie accepted or not was another matter. Piney would never understand why his kid was so unreadable. Even if Opie refused the position, didn’t matter. Jackson always held Opie’s opinions in higher regard than those of the others. They were brothers before the club made them brothers. Tig would be roped into the fold for his expertise in whatever craziness was his expertise, but he’d never have the same inside intel he did when Clay was running the show. Happy would be fine with any situation, and if he didn’t like something he’d either go along with it anyway or leave. He was always very straight forward that way. Juice would become more important – no doubt Jax would want to tech-out the place. Outfit the crew and the club with the latest and greatest, especially when it came to protection. Chibs would play the card he was dealt, but if push came to shove he’d probably end up siding with Tig. Bobby would hold his ground but always be loyal to Jackson. Leaving Piney.

Who’d probably hear about all of it when Opie came up to visit him at the cabin.

Piney looked to the metal door that read Harris comma Richard as he pulled a flask from his jacket pocket.

With tears in his eyes he unscrewed the lid and held it up towards his fallen brother.

“To whatever comes next.” He mumbled, taking a good mouthful of the containers contents before replacing the flask and starting the crazy cycle of memories and grief all over again.


	37. .....Comes Around

Total Anarchy  
Chapter 37  
... Comes Around

Jax sat at the head of the table in the chapel, having just been voted into the position Clay formerly held by an official 7-0 anonymous ballot vote.

The club had filed out of the room slowly, ready for the party Gemma, Jo, Diana and some of the other girls had been preparing for most of the day. The noise outside was staggering, so Jax escaped back to the chapel for some silent thought.

It hadn’t been more than a few months since Clay’s passing. The club having taken a small break in order to get everything up and running again. The insurance Gemma had taken out on Clay’s life had a staggering pay-out policy in the event of accidental death. Once the coroner officially ruled it murder, the offices of Powell & Cart cut Mrs. Morrow a check. For two million dollars.

Gemma financed the rebuild, and within six weeks the club had been put back just the way it was. The shop was also given a face lift, expanding Gemma’s office by twice its original size and ordering some new equipment the boys have been asking for.

The table, which had luckily survived the fire, was restored and given a new finish – something everyone had agreed and approved before hand.

Though a lot of the artefacts the boys displayed in their club were ruined, one thing remained the same.

The teal bike John Teller used to ride had been damaged in the fire, but Opie managed to get his hands on it before the salvage crew tossed it for scrap. He spent the six weeks it took to rebuild the club restoring the Harley in his garage. He presented it to Jackson at Gemma’s house the day before the big vote and the young man cried. Jax asked Opie then to be his VP if the club voted him top dog. The man agreed without thought.

Now his thoughts drifted, between what the club was and what he wanted it to be. He thought about his father, John, and what he had envisioned for the Sons. Jax knew there was no way the club would be the version his father wanted, but he had hope for change. He could make it a better place. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. A club with less killing and bloodshed, with less chance of burying another one of their own.

Kip. His thoughts always brought him to Kip.

He was more than one of their own, he was Jax’s. He thought about their last moments together, sitting in the clubhouse talking about business with Clay and Tig. Or, that is to say, Clay and Tig were talking about business and Jax was trying to keep his mind focused on the conversation and his eyes on his step father until the two older men left the room, abandoning the place to Jax and the prospect.

“You need to learn to control yourself Jax.” Kip started, pushing back in his chair to distance himself from his lover.

“Baby, I jus—“

“Don’t Baby me Jackson. Not here, not after all that. What would have happened if Clay or Tig had found out. Huh? What if you misjudged and ran your foot up Tig’s leg. You wanna deal with that shit? He’d kill you if you rubbed up on him. Then what. What the hell would I do without you Jackson? What happens when I have to watch them put you in the ground.”

Kip crossed his arms and turned his head, making sure he couldn’t see Jax in his peripheral vision. Jax knew this look, the angry, upset, scared look. Jackson was breaking Kip, breaking his heart and his soul. He’d have to fix the mess he was creating fast.  
“Kip,” Jax’s voice was low and sweet. “I never meant to cross any lines. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

“I know.” Kip offered, still keeping his eyes from making contact with Jax’s.

“I love you Kip. I’m tired of hiding it. I want to be free to be with you. I want to love you openly. What the fuck’s wrong with that!”

Jax’s outburst wasn’t helping the situation. He saw Kip trying to hide the tears. Jackson’s heart sank, knowing he was making Kip feel worse and not better.

Jax reached across the small table and stole the other man’s hand form him, feeling his thin, rough fingers in his own. Kip let him have that little connection, but still refused to give him eye contact. Jax saw the way Kip inclined his head towards the door. It was ever so subtle, but Jax had caught it. Worry. He was terrified someone would catch them. Jax kept his guard up, in case that door did fly open.

“Kip... baby.”

The prospect turned his head, giving Jackson complete and full view of his blue eyes and absolute insight into his soul. He was withdrawn, broken, desperate. There was a mutual feeling of longing and a weak but unresounding pulse of hope from Kip. Hope that one day they would be free to lay in each other’s arms outside on a warm summer day.

Kip was about to speak when Jax let his hand go, slumping back into his chair and mentioning something about the ball game that was on the day before.

The prospect dried his eyes something quick while turning his back to the door, keeping from whoever was entering from reading his face. Jax wanted to hold Kip. More than anything in that moment he wanted to hold his lover tight.

But it would never happen. Tig spoiled their last moment together. Kip would be stabbed that afternoon, taking away any tender moment they might have together, breaking Jackson’s heart permanently.

“Hey brother.”

Lost in his own memories, Jax hadn’t noticed Opie enter the chapel. Or close the door behind him.

“Hey Ope.” Jax breathed deep, bringing himself back into the room.

“You been crying.”

Jackson hadn’t noticed that either. He wiped his face clean of the tears that streaked it as Opie rested a hand on Jax’s shoulder.

“I get that it still hurts, that it probably always will. If you ever want to talk about it brother, I’m here for you. I mean it.”

Jax smiled, tilting his head and wiping his eyes once more.

“Thanks Ope. You’re right, I don’t think I’ll really get over Clay’s death.”

Opie smiled back, patting Jax’s shoulder a few times before heading back to the door.

He took the handle in his hand and turned it before speaking. He didn’t want to see his brother’s reaction.

“I was talking about Kip.”

Opie left the room, joining his brothers in celebration. Jax would need time with the thought he was left with.

The thought that Opie had known.

Opie had known about Jax and Kip and he hadn’t passed judgement. He didn’t harbour any ill regards to his friend.

Jackson was well aware this time that the tears began to flow from his eyes again, more intensely than the before. The sobs started soon after, breaking him down to the prime elements of his being. Jax was hunched over the table with his arms crossed over this stomach for quite some time, releasing the emotion he had been bottling up over the years. All the tension he held in regards to the relationship he wanted, and all the anger he kept over his part in the loss of his best friend and partner.

It took him more than an hour to recover, no one bothering him the entire time he held himself in the chapel. He waited there until he felt comfortable enough to join the party.

He found Opie outside guarding the door to the chapel when he opened it. His brother put a hand on his shoulder again and Jax smiled, letting the larger man know he was alright and ready to resume the responsibilities laid out before him.

They joined the party together, as best friends. There to support each other through whatever was to come.

And Jackson knew he’d be there. Just as he knew Kip would follow him in spirit.


End file.
